Let Me Fall
by The Lonely Goatherd
Summary: Sequel to "Someone to Watch Over Me" Olive uncovers a passion she never before realized she held and a love worth fighting for. Olive/Alfredo
1. Chapter One: Enter Fredo

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pushing Daisies. And I don't own the title either, which is the name of the song "Let Me Fall" by Idina Menzel…

**Author's Note:** Because apparently I can't stay away for that long…lol…so here's the sequel to "Someone to Watch Over Me". This picks up _immediately_ after "Someone" so read and enjoy.

**Summary: **Olive uncovers a passion she never before realized she held. Sequel to Someone to Watch Over Me

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* * *

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**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter One: Enter Fredo**

"_The fact was this"…_

Alfredo Aldarisio was in love with Olive Snook. He thought of her the sun; the sun that the world revolved around. His world. His entire being.

Alfredo found himself unable to stay away on long business trips like he used to. He could only go so long without seeing Olive's beautiful face. And what was more Alfredo was less dependent on his homeopathic herbal enhancements when he was around the petite blonde. She was all the happiness he needed.

Alfredo found life more bearable now that Olive was in it. It no longer seemed as if the earth was losing its atmosphere but rather, gaining it back. The air seemed fuller, cleaner, purer, if only because of Olive breathed the same air. The sky was a brighter blue because of Olive's eyes. The sun shone brighter each day if only because of Olive's smile. Birds chirped only because Olive laughed.

In a short amount of time Olive Snook had become the only world Alfredo Aldarisio needed.

* * *

Olive whirled around quickly, her shock at being interrupted coming seconds late. She clutched her chest and took deep breath. "Alfredo," she said again. Alfredo gave a shy smile and wiped the fallen snow off of his jacket sleeves. 

"Hi," he said quietly.

His voice seemed to shake Olive out of her shocked stupor. "Fredo," Olive spoke again. She took a step towards him and suddenly stopped by the images of the quick fantasy kiss she had had months ago flying across her mind. She blushed and pushed the thoughts to the farthest corner of her mind; locking them away. "Fredo what are you doing here?" She managed to ask, her voice shaking slightly.

"I –uh—I came back from traveling today and I thought I would just say hello," Alfredo answered, rushed.

"But, Fredo, you know we close at eight. Why didn't you come earlier today?"

Alfredo shifted nervously and Olive thought she saw a blush creep across his features quickly. "Well, I…I _just _got back."

"You did?" Olive asked eyes widening, noticing for the first time that Alfredo's suitcase and herbal kit were sitting at his feet. Alfredo nodded, embarrassed. "But why would you come here instead of going home?"

The man shifted again, distractedly dusting the remaining snow from his jacket. "I just want to…s-s-see you and say hello."

"Oh." Olive's blush deepened. Why would he want to see her instead of going home to a nice comfortable bed?

An uncomfortable silence filled the air as the two looked at one another.

"Well, now that I have done that," Alfredo finally said, picking up his cases, trying to alleviate some of the awkward tension . "I'll say goodnight. Goodnight."

"Alfredo!" Olive called after the man, stopping him before he could leave.

"Yes?" He asked, turning back into the room, his voice hopeful.

Olive paused and but her lip not sure why she had called after him. Something in the pit of her had told her to do it. So she had. She shifted awkwardly as Alfredo stared at her patiently. "I-It's good to see you again," Olive said quietly, the words rushing from her mouth before she thought them.

Alfredo smiled. "You too, Olive. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Olive whispered to the empty room after Alfredo left.

* * *

The next morning, for a reason unknown to herself, Olive poured the cold espresso down the drain. She twitched before refilling the small cup with the fresh steamy coffee drink. She set the cup on the counter and stared at it. The minutes ticked by as she tapped her fingers on the counter. She huffed as the espresso stared back at her and steam no longer rose from its surface. 

Sighing she picked up the cup and poured the contents down the drain again. Impatiently, she tapped her foot as she refilled the cup once more. She nearly screamed when, upon turning, she came face to face with Alfredo Aldarisio.

"Olive?" He asked, reaching across the counter and steadying the startled woman before she dropped the espresso. "Are you alright?"

"Alfredo," Olive breathed out. "When did you get here?" She asked after catching her breath.

Alfredo's brow rose as he sat on a stool across from Olive. "Fifteen minutes ago," he answered. "When you greeted me at the door, told me you would get me an espresso, then proceeded to fill a cup and empty it three times."

Olive blushed. "Oh..." she said, looking down at the fresh cup in her hands before thrusting it forward for Alfredo to take. "I guess I've done this to you a lot, huh?"

"Once or twice." Alfredo gave a small smile.

"Would you like a piece of pie?"

"And risk getting it in three hours?"

Olive rolled her eyes.

Alfredo chuckled slighlty. "I'm fine for now, thank you."

Olive nodded. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Alfredo smiled as Olive Snook walked away.

* * *

"Might I make an observation?" 

Olive sighed as Alfredo's voice caught her attention as she walked by. "What is it with men and making observations?" She mumbled as she fully turned to the traveling salesman.

"I'm sorry?"

"What?"

"You said something," Alfredo explained.

"It was nothing," Olive said, waving the matter off with her hand and sitting down. "What observation did you want to make now?"

"You seem decidedly unhappy."

"I thought you already decided that…"

Alfredo smiled softly. "But even more so then before I left."

"Why are people so interested in whether or not I'm happy?" Olive said frustrated, playing with the hem of her dress. Jonah's face flashed through her mind. She shuddered.

"More people have told you, you look decidedly unhappy?"

"More or less, yes," she replied with a shrug. "No big deal."

"Is that why you're decidedly more unhappy?" Alfredo asked, leaning forward slightly his concern written on his face.

Olive shrugged again. "It may be indirectly related."

"I can still help you with that, if you'd like," Alfredo offered once more, tapping his herbal medicine with his foot.

Olive gave a small smile, rolled her eyes and scoffed. "How many times must I tell you I don't want you selling that stuff in here?"

"Ah," Alfredo said, holding up his finger. "You said I'm not allowed to bother the customers with it. You never talked about the wait staff."

Olive sat, stumped with no sarcastic remark to redeem herself. "Yeah well, don't bother anyone with it," she said instead, getting up and walking away. Alfredo smiled once more.

* * *

Olive stared at the single piece of strawberry pie after she placed it on the white plate. Sighing she placed a dollop of whip cream on top. She stared at it again. 

While she still upset about what had happened with Jonah she felt relieved that she was no longer obsessing over it. But she didn't know how she felt. She felt weird. Weird because she was calm. Calm because of what Ned had said to her the night before. But weird because, for a reason she couldn't place, she felt happy. Happy, but not happy because of what Ned had said to her the previous night, but happy because of something she didn't know of…or about. It was all confusing, making her head spin and nerves raw.

With a twitch, she picked up the bottle of chocolate syrup and began to drizzle it over the strawberry pie topped with whip cream.

She watched the chocolate drizzle like a thick rain, covering the already savory treat.

"Hey Olive."  
Olive jumped at the voice that interrupted her. The chocolate syrup flew from her hand, but not before spraying chocolate all over her front. With a thud, the bottle landed on the ground. Olive whirled around to find Chuck standing in front of her eyes wide.

Charlotte Charles had to stifle a laugh at the sight of Olive Snook covered in chocolate syrup.

"Chuck," Olive breathed, trying to catch her breath, putting her hand to her chest. She frowned and looked down, realizing, for the first time, that she was now a mess. She blushed and grabbed a towel, trying to wipe the chocolate away, but making it worse instead. "Did you, uh, want something?"

Chuck giggled and walked to the sink, wetting a rag and handing it to Olive. "Well, I was going to say that you seem to be doing better today then yesterday, but…" Chuck's voice trailed as Olive frowned and tried to clean herself up. The brunette stifled another laugh. "…well at this moment you're kind of--," Chuck jumped nervously.

Olive rolled her eyes and finished trying to clean her front, before giving up. The chocolate didn't seem to want to move from the front of her dress. With a grunt, she threw the towel on the counter and turned her full attention to Chuck. "What?"

Chuck smiled. "You seem to be doing a lot better."

Olive nodded. "I feel better. I think."

"You think?"

"Well I mean, I did, last night, after I talked with Ned--," she said, narrowing her eyes. Chuck coughed and inspected her finger nails. Olive rolled her eyes and threw the dirty, chocolaty rag at her.

"Ew!" Chuck jumped, hitting the towel away before it could touch her.

"Don't pretend like I don't know that you put him up to it," Olive scolded, but smiled.

Chuck smirked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Olive rolled her eyes again, but the message was clear. A silent thank-you passed between the two.

"So you _did_ feel better but now you don't?"

Olive sighed and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "I don't know. I...I don't think I felt one hundred percent better last night. But there's…something about today that makes me feel even better then before. I don't know, it's driving me crazy," she said, frustrated.

"You're not doing well because you feel happier than you think you should be?" Chuck asked, trying to wrap her head around Olive's antics.

"I think so?" Olive offered, shaking her head.

"Well, is there anything I can do to help?"

Olive shrugged. "Who knows." She looked at the pie piece on the counter again. "I better get this pie out to Alfredo, he's been waiting long enough," she said, picking up the pie and walking from the kitchen.

"Alfredo?" Chuck asked, as Olive walked away. "Who's Alfredo?" With a shrug, Chuck turned towards the sink, her foot hitting something on the ground. She looked to see the chocolate syrup bottle lying at her feet. Her eyes widened as she realized Olive had walked back into the dining area with a large chocolate stain on her front.

"Olive!" She yelled as she ran from the kitchen.

* * *

"Here's your pie," Olive said, placing the pie on the table before Alfredo. 

"Thank Y--," Alfredo's eyes widened as he looked at Olive.

"What?" Olive asked, her brow furrowing.

Alfredo gaped. "Uh--," he motioned up and down with his hand.

Confused Olive looked down. Her eyes widened when she saw the state of her dress and her head snapped up. She blushed and bolted for the kitchen, running into Chuck as the other woman came running from the kitchen. Chuck was able to steady herself by grabbing onto the counter, but Olive Snook wasn't as lucky.

The impact forced the blonde woman backwards. She tripped over her own feet and fell the ground. The Pie Maker, having been occupied with picking up dirty plates from a deserted table, chose that exact moment to turn towards the kitchen. Being in a state of oblivion he tripped over Olive, sending a half eaten piece of Boysenberry Pie on top of her head.

From his seat in his booth Alfredo Aldarisio laughed quietly.

Olive groaned. "Shut up," she said, picking at a berry as it rolled down her cheek.

Alfredo smiled. Yes, Olive Snook had become the only world he needed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! The beginning of "Let Me Fall" I hope you liked it!!

Just a thank you to everyone who read "Someone" and who came back to read this…I really appreciate it!!!

I don't know when I'll be updating again. Hopefully it will be soon. But you know how it goes with school…

Until next time,  
Kate


	2. Chapter Two: Still Saying No

**Disclaimer: **Yup most definitely don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **In honor of the fact that I changed my major I give you Chapter Two!

* * *

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Two: Still Saying No**

_At this exact moment Alfredo Aldarisio was twenty-one years, five months, three weeks, one day, six hours, and forty-two minutes old. He nervously straightened his tie with his right hand as his left kept a sturdy grip on the bouquet of flowers he held. He knew he was beginning to sweat, as he always did when he was nervous. He hoped it didn't show. He coughed, cleared his throat and opened the door, his hand slipping on the handle slightly._

_Vickie's Vacuums was a quaint vacuum shop where all your vacuum needs come true. And Alfredo Aldarisio was no exception. He always went to Vickie's when he was in a vacuum need; when he needed a hefty duty vacuum, one of those small hand held ones, and even the little brush with the bristles that no one really knows the purpose of. But today was neither about vacuums or vacuum parts. _

_It was about Vickie. _

_Since he had first set foot in Vickie's Vacuums, Alfredo Aldarisio had been taken with the quiet shop keeper. Her brunette hair, though always pulled into a pony tail, was a mass of endless curls. He brown eyes seemed to be the richer than the richest of chocolates. Her voice was quiet and meek and he often had to strain to hear it. She as close to perfect as perfect can be._

_Taking a reassuring deep breath, Alfredo walked determinedly to the counter where Vickie currently stood, flipping through a brochure and marking specific places she liked. She chewed on the tip of the pen she held making Alfredo smile._

_"Hello Vickie," Alfredo said, his mouth going dry with nerves._

_Vickie looked up a small, shy smile flitting across her face. "Hello Alfredo," she replied quietly. "Can I get you anything?" As she said this her eyes fell on the flowers Alfredo held in his hand. Her eyes widened._

_"Um…nothing, I was wondering if…maybe you might like to go to dinner with me tonight?" Alfredo asked, shifting awkwardly and holding out the flowers._

_Vickie's breath caught and she suddenly looked scared. "Oh Alfredo," she breathed out quietly. She paused and looked to the flowers, Alfredo's face, to the flowers, and back again. "I—I—I already have plans tonight," her voice was shaky and seemed to become even more quiet._

_"Oh," Alfredo said, lowering the flowers and looking to the ground. Quickly, he looked up again. "Maybe tomorrow? Or—or later this week?"_

_Vickie paused a true fear seized her body. She opened her mouth and stumbled over none existent words. "Oh Alfredo…I---I--,"_

_Alfredo suddenly realized the look on Vickie's face and he felt the blood drain from his face. "Oh, I understand," he said, stopping the woman him from continuing an explanation she so obviously hated to give. _

_"I'm sorry," Vickie replied, quietly, lowering her gaze to the ground._

_"It's okay…I'll—well, I should be going," Alfredo tried to gather as much self confidence and dignity that he could. "I'll—I'll see you later."_

_Vickie merely nodded and watched as Alfredo left her vacuum shop. He never came back again._

_As Alfredo became a traveling salesmen he no longer took the time with romance and love and women. Not only was it hard to have a traveling sales rooted in such a way, some times leaving your love for long periods of time. But wasn't sure he could endure a heart break of any kind. It would be unbearable. And so Alfredo had put love on the back burner._

_That was…until a certain Olive Snook entered his life…_

It is now six years, two months, one week, a day, and two hours later. Alfredo Aldarisio looked at himself in the mirror. He straightened his tie. There were no flowers this time (after all, walking into The Pie Hole with a bouquet flowers would seem more than awkward), but the nerves were the same. He coughed and straightened his tie once more. It didn't seem to want to sit straight.

At this moment, in the present time, Alfredo could no longer recall the color of Vickie's hair or the shade of her eyes. Vickie had merely become a ghost of a figure in the back of Alfredo's mind. He wasn't even sure if her name actually was Vickie. But it didn't matter. All that mattered now was the petite blonde waitress who had captured his heart; a waitress in the form of Olive Snook.

Olive was far from perfect; though she was, perhaps, the most beautiful woman Alfredo had ever laid eyes on and had a heart of gold. She was slightly loud, she was blatant and honest. Her tactics were confusing and she rambled when she actually didn't want to talk to you. She was overly impatient and pushy. She was far from perfect. And yet, all of her imperfections put her closer to the label of perfect than any woman Alfredo had ever known. And all of her imperfections would be the only thing he needed.

With a confident nod Alfredo left his apartment for The Pie Hole.

* * *

Olive Snook sat at one of the tables in The Pie Hole. Silently she to a sip of coffee. Ned and Chuck were in the back room making pies or doing something she didn't really care to know about. There were no customers in the restaurant at the current moment so Olive was left with a personal moment before the day truly started. She sighed, tired.

She didn't know why she was tired. She had been back to work for a week. She slept peacefully and fit less each night. She was eating properly. She didn't feel as stressed as she had been, though stress was still there nonetheless. And yet she felt more tired than she had in the past three weeks combined. But what was more was that she still felt weird. Just like she had a week ago on her second day back. She couldn't describe or place the feeling. To say it was unwelcome would be wrong. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was just…different. And though Olive couldn't name the feeling that she was feeling she felt as though she had felt it before…

She took another sip of coffee…

Olive often didn't understand silence. It was penetrating and made her think. She hated to think when it was silent. For when she thought at suck times it was about things she'd rather not think about. Or they were thoughts that were just confusing and thinking about them made them even more confusing than they already were instead of solving them.

Taking another sip of coffee, Olive strained to listen to the faint sounds that surrounded her.

The clock ticked in the corner. Olive drummed her fingers on the table. A loud crash sounded as something dropped in the kitchen. Chuck laughed. The bell above the door rang.

Alfredo was standing before her.

Olive jumped, her coffee cup falling to the floor. Luckily, she had emptied it of its contents moments before. Alfredo jumped slightly, startled by Olive's reaction; before bending quickly and picking up the cup.

"Fredo!" Olive breathed, as Alfredo placed the cup gingerly on the table.

"Good morning, Olive," Alfredo replied, smiling shyly.

Olive his smile infectious and smiled back. "Good morning Alfredo." She stood and brushed non existent dirt off her dress. "Can I get you anything?" She asked, turning towards the counter.

"Wait," Alfredo said, reaching his hand out and touching Olive's elbow to stop her.

Olive, once again, jumped at the contact, surprised by the warmth of Alfredo's touch. Eyes wide, she looked to the man before her. "Yes?"

Alfredo took in a deep breath, but Olive noticed his posture shrink. He suddenly looked like a lost puppy. She felt herself wanting to reach out a help him.

"Um—I—um…" Alfredo stumbled over his words. "Olive, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight," he said in a mumbled rush.

Olive's mouth fell slightly. "What?" Had she heard correctly?

Alfredo sighed and said again, albeit quieter: "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight…?"

Olive's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "L-l-like a date?" She asked, her voice breaking slightly.

Alfredo merely nodded his head twice. Olive blinked and gasped.

The man standing before her was no longer Alfredo Aldarisio, traveling salesman, but Jonah Burke con artist and heart breaker. His cool, confident smirk was plastered on his face and he rose his brow in questioning, the silent "Well?" ringing through the air. Olive gulped and took a step back as Jonah began to reach forward and started to gently tug on her arm.

"Olive?...Olive?...Olive, are you alright?"

Olive shook her head and blinked rapidly. Jonah was gone. Alfredo stood in front of her, concern etched across his face as he gently patted Olive's arm.

"Alfredo?" Olive asked, confused.

Alfredo tilted his head, his concern rising. "Yes."

Olive let out a shaky breath and shook her head once more.

Slowly, having convinced himself that Olive wasn't going to spontaneously combust, Alfredo let go of her arm and took a step back. The two fell into an awkward silence as Olive took in slow, calming breaths, and Alfredo pretended to be nonchalant.

After five minutes Alfredo Aldarisio began to panic. "I—uh, don't want to sound pushy or overbearing," he began, his voice laced with sincerity. "But would you like to go to dinner?" He finished, asking for the third time and praying that it was a charm.

Olive's breath caught in her throat. She looked at Alfredo, taking him in. Never once would she have guessed that he was interested in her. And yet, it slowly began to make sense. The looks her gave her, his nervous ramble, the small, faint blush that always seemed to cover his face. And his smile. His constant smile.

"I---," Olive paused, her mouth hanging open, not even realizing she was beginning to respond. What did she say? She couldn't possibly say no. Alfredo was too sweet for that. But she couldn't say yes. For one thing, she didn't exactly feel that way for Alfredo. And for another, Jonah's burn mark was still left to recent on her heart. And yet, she had promised herself she would try harder.

"I---," Olive closed her eyes and shut off her brain, allowing what ever answer she had formulated to roll off her tongue without a second thought. "I can't…"

"Oh," Olive opened her eyes just in time to see Alfredo's face fall before he quickly recovered with some dignity. "That's alright."

"Oh Fredo," Olive whispered shaking her head. "It's just…I just got out of a relationship…and…"

"Oh," realization dawned on Alfredo's face, quickly followed by confusion. He had only been gone for just under three months, had that really been enough time for Olive to be in a relationship serious enough where she needed to wait before dating again? "I understand," He said, somewhat uncertain.

Olive merely nodded and looked to the ground.

"Perhaps some other time when my timing is better," Alfredo spoke again. "I'll just go and sit in my booth now. I'll have a macchiato whenever it's convenient for you," he finished before Olive could respond, and walked to the booth he usually sat it.

He wasn't giving up. After all, her mused, she had said no because of some previous relationship…not because she thought he was some hideous monster. A sign, he knew, he should take as a good one.

Olive watched, slack jawed, as Alfredo walked over to his booth and sat down, pulling out a paper that h had stuck awkwardly in his back pocket. His response had been anything other than what she had expected. For some reason she had expected a pushy and persistent Alfedo to keep asking, bothering her to go to dinner until she relented out of pure frustration.

_'Now why would I expect that?'_ Olive silently snorted in disgust to herself.

But Alfredo had simply smiled and walked away. Olive had a feeling--by the way Alfredo sent her a glance out of the corner of his eye--that perhaps he had not entirely given up hope. But, she realized, she didn't really care. At this present moment, he was giving her, her well respected and needed space.

* * *

For the first part of the day, Olive avoided Alfredo as much as she could, out of fear that the atmosphere around them would be awkward. But, as she shyly placed a cup of coffee and a bowl of ice cream before the traveling sales man, she realized it was anything but.

"Is anything wrong?" Alfredo asked.

"N-no," Olive said, her voice shaking slightly. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you're usually much more exuberant."

"I what?" Olive asked, brow furrowing.

"You're more subdued than usual," he explained.

"Are you saying I'm loud?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Alfredo's mouth. "No, I didn't," he said, amused. "I merely stated that you aren't as _exuberant_ as usual. I never said anything about being loud. Do you think you're loud?"

"No I don't think I'm loud," Olive said flatly, mocking him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Olive mocked again.

"Because, you know what they say, the guilty are the first to admit it."

Olive rolled her eyes. "No one says that."

"Sure they do."

"Who?" Olive asked, crossing her arms in triumph.

"You know them, the people…of the world."

Olive shook her head. "I have pies to serve," she said, walking away. Alfredo's chuckle following her.

* * *

Retreating to the kitchen, Olive hid herself behind a pillar and peered through the window way. She watched as Alfredo took a sip of macchiato, he obviously took too big of a gulp, and the scorching liquid burned his mouth. He jumped, coughed, and grabbed his ice cream taking an unhealthy amount and spooning it into his mouth. His eyes widened and he gagged, hitting his chest as a brain freeze took hold of his body. He coughed and managed to swallow the ice cream. He hit his chest a few more times then settled.

Alfredo looked around, making sure no one had seen his comical act. Convinced that no one had, he picked up his paper and took a considerably smaller sip of coffee.

From her spot in the kitchen Olive smiled.

* * *

Later that day the employees of The Pie Hole were quietly cleaning up their work space. Technically, the day had yet to end and they weren't closed, but with an hour left until closing time and no customers Charlotte Charles had decided that they should start cleaning up now so that when closing finally did roll around they wouldn't have to stay too long. And so they cleaned.

At this present moment, Olive Snook was quietly cleaning up the kitchen while the Pie Maker and Chuck cleaned up the dining area. Private detective, Emerson Codd, sat in his usual booth scowling.

"This is ridiculous," Emerson said, suppressing impatience. "I've got a dead guy waiting to be interviewed."

"The dead can wait, Emerson," Chuck replied.

"Like hell they can, you ain't doing anything. Let's go."

"We're cleaning up."

Emerson growled slightly. "There's still an hour left until this place actually closes."

"We're being productive," Chuck replied.

Emerson snorted.

"We're almost done, Emerson," Ned tried to reason diplomatically.

"Olive is here, she can finish up, let's go."

"You know, I feel bad for always leaving Olive to clean up after everything," Chuck replied.

Emerson started to respond: "Olive is perfectly--,"

"Olive," A voice called from the kitchen. "Can hear all of you. And thank you Chuck!"

"You're welcome," Chuck called back, sticking her tongue out at Emerson.

Emerson shook his head, "This is so stupid," he whispered just as the bell above the door rang.

"Um, excuse me?"

The three occupants of the dining room at The Pie Hole turned towards their newest addition. A woman stood in the doorway, long brunette hair pulled back into a pony tail on her head. She had deep brown eyes that took in the room around her.

"Welcome to The Pie Hole!" Chuck welcomed brightly.

"Can we help you?" Ned added.

"Actually, yes, I'm looking for Olive Snook," the woman explained. "I was told she works here."

"Olive?" Ned asked, raising his brow. The woman nodded. Chuck shrugged as Ned looked at her and Emerson scowled. "Hey Olive! There's—,"

"Yes, yes," Olive's voice came from the kitchen. "Give me two seconds!"

"Well, I…you heard that, right?" Ned asked.

The woman smiled and nodded.

"So you know Olive?" Chuck asked, breaking the silence that had taken over the room.

A weird look passed across the woman's face. "Sure do--,"

Before the woman could respond any more, Olive came bounding into the room.

"You know, Ned, I would really appreciate a taller step la--," Olive froze and the glass she was holding dropped from her hand shattering on the floor.

"Olive!" The woman exclaimed, parading over to Olive (stepping lightly around the shattered glass) and gave the blonde waitress a hug.

Olive shrank back from the hug and stumbled slightly. She gaped at the woman in front of her, not believing that she was seeing her. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible.

"Well aren't you going to say anything?" The woman said, smiling brightly.

Olive had to search for her voice before she could finally speak: "P-P-Pim?"

The woman--now informally introduced as Pim--smiled, laughed, and nodded.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have chapter two! I hope you liked it!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed!

Until next time (thought I don't know when that will be…)  
Kate


	3. Chapter Three: What Is This Feeling?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Three:** **What Is This Feeling?**

Olive Snook could not form a comprehensible thought. She stared slack-jawed and unblinking at the woman before her who had somehow made an unexpected visit back into her life. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't allow herself to believe it. So she did the only thing that she was capable of at the moment and stared.

Charlotte Charles stood looking intrigued. The Pie Maker looked slightly taken aback and uncomfortable. Emerson Codd looked bored. And the new woman, named Pim, smiled brightly.

There was silence as Olive and Pim stared at one another as Ned and Chuck looked back and forth between the two women and as Emerson inspected his finger nails. Olive face slowly began to morph into a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and mortification.

"Well, lord, Olive," Pim finally spoke, her tone dry yet amused. "Don't look so thrilled to see me."

Pim's voice seemed to snap Olive out of her stupor; slightly. She responded, opening and closing her mouth, though no sound issued from it. Chuck had to bite her lip from laughing, having seen Ned do the same thing countless times before.

There was another palpable silence. Emerson coughed and checked his watch, rolling his eyes.

"Does she do this often?" Pim spoke, turning towards Chuck, Ned, and Emerson. "It's been years since I've seen her, but Olive never had problems talking before."

"Not usually," Ned replied.

"She's usually more articulate," Chuck responded.

Both comments earned them a glare from Olive. Pim laughed.

"So, did Olive say your name was Pim?" Chuck asked, taking a step forward, trying to break the awkward air of the room.

"Oh yes, of course, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Pim. Pim Madison." Pim, now formally introduced, said, extending her hand to Chuck.

"I'm Chuck," Chuck replied, shaking Pim's hand. Pim rose her eyebrow at Chuck's name. "It's a nickname for Charlotte," Chuck explained.

"Brilliant," Pim replied. "And you are?" She asked to the Pie Maker and Emerson.

"Um, Ned," The Pie Maker responded, as if unsure of his own name.

"A pleasure," Pim said, turning to Emerson and waiting for his introduction.

"Emerson Codd," Emerson replied, dryly, his very tone indicating he had other places to be.

Everyone turned back to Olive who still looked too shocked to say anything.

"Would you like a piece of pie, Pim?" Chuck asked, moving behind the counter.

"Pie sounds lovely, thank you," Pim replied, sitting at the counter.

The small conversation seemed to be what was needed to snap Olive back to reality. "Pim, why don't we go back to my apartment and talk," she said panicked, grabbing the other woman by the elbow and trying to pull her from the door.

"Nonesense, Olive," Pim replied, jerking her hand out of Olive's grip. "Pie sounds delicious; besides, now I can get to know these new friends of yours."

"Are you an old friend of Olive's?" Chuck asked, placing a piece cherry pie in front of Pim.

"More or less," Olive mumbled walking around the counter and standing opposite Pim.

"We're cousins," Pim replied, sending Olive a bright smile. Olive smiled weakly in return.

"Cousins?" Ned asked, stepping around the counter as well.

"There's more than one of you?" Emerson asked, sounding slightly intrigued.

"You make it sound like it's impossible for me to have a family," Olive replied somewhat stingily.

"The thought hasn't crossed my mind before," Emerson replied, dryly.

"Weren't you just complaining about somewhere you needed to be?" Olive asked, making Ned panic slightly. "Why don't you go?"

Emerson rolled his eyes and the Pie Maker let out a shaky breath, having determined Olive didn't know where exactly Emerson wished to be. "I think I'll stay," Emerson said, "I will admit, I'm intrigued."

Pim took a large bite of pie and looked back and forth between Emerson and Olive.

"You do care," Olive replied sarcastically. "Charming."

"So Pim," Chuck replied, stepping into the conversation before Emerson and Olive could bicker anymore. "That's quite a unique name, is it short for anything?"

Pim smiled around another mouthful of pie and swallowed. "Yes, this sounds odd, but it's short for Pimento."

"Pimento?" Ned asked. Pim nodded. "That's…um…interesting."

Pim laughed.

"Wait," Emerson said. "Isn't a pimento the little red thing in the middle of an olive?"

Olive groaned and buried her face in her hand. "Yes," she mumbled.

Pim smiled brightly again. "It sure is."

"So…" Emerson chuckled. "Olive and Pimento...you two are like--,"

"Emerson, I will pay you not to finish that sentence," Olive said, looking at the man.

The private detective thought for a moment before holding out his hand. Olive rolled her eyes, walked over to the cash register, opened, and pulled something out. Returning to the counter she placed a single penny in Emerson's hand.

"Take it out of my pay check," she said to Ned.

Emerson scowled at the penny in his hand.

"I never said how much I would give you," Olive explained smugly.

Emerson scoffed and stuck the penny in his pocket. "I'm going to remember this," he said, pointing at the petite woman.

"Is everyone in your family named after some type of food?" Ned asked before he could stop himself. Olive glared and Pim laughed.

"No," Olive explained, defensively. "It's mere coincidence."

"How is it coincidence?" Emerson said. "You're both in the same family and your names--,"

"I believe what Olive is getting at," Pim said. "Is that we are merely related by law."

"What?" Chuck asked.

"Technically," Olive said. "Pim and I are step-cousins."

"Step-cousins?" Ned asked, more than confused.

"Yes," Pim said. "My mother is Olive's father's sister's wife."

"Wait," Emerson said, holding up his hand.

"Father's---" Ned paused before continuing. "_—Sister's _wife?" His eyes were wide.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Pim asked, defensively.

"No," Ned replied, looking sheepish. "Just wanted to make sure I heard correctly."

"But if you have two mother's," Emerson said, "How is there a you."  
Pim rolled her eyes, resembling Olive. "I do have a father. He and my mother divorced; for obvious reasons."

"So does that mean that you're…you know….too?" Ned asked, his mouth snapping shut the question escaping his mouth before they could stop them.

"Ned!" Chuck whispered a scold.

A smirk worked its way across Pim's face as she narrowed her eyes and looked up and down Ned's frame, her eyes straying on places inappropriate. Finally she met Ned's gaze. She pursed her lips and spoke in a deep voice. "Hardly."

Ned's eyes widened and he took a nervous step back. Olive and Chuck both took defensive steps forward, putting themselves in front of the Pie Maker.

"What are you doing here, Pim?" Olive asked, warily.

"Well, _Olive_," Pim replied, setting down her fork and crossing her arms. "I moved to the city a few days ago and started asking around about you. I thought I would come visit my cousin. After all, we haven't seen or spoken to each other since you disappeared from our family."

There was a simultaneous gasp as Ned, Chuck, and Emerson stared at Olive Snook.

Olive's body went rigid, every muscle in her body visibly tightening. "Pim, I didn't _disappear_ from our family."

"Then do explain how no one has heard from you in years."

"That's not true or fair, Pim. I talk to my parents every week."

"And yet you fail to mention to them where you live. Let's not forget the fact that they haven't seen you, in person, for years."

"Pim…" Olive's voice warned. "I'm not going to talk about this with you right now." Her jaw was set and tight; making it more than obvious that she was trying to control her temper and slowly losing.

"You're right," Pim said, standing. "And I refuse to talk to you when you're in a mood; besides, I need to set up my bed so I don't have to sleep on the floor. I'll come back around in the morning. Goodnight cousin," she said, walking to the door. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you as well," Pim said, before walking out the door and into the night.

Silence rang through the air of The Pie Hole, as the Pie Maker, Charlotte Charles, and Emerson Codd stared at Olive Snook.

"Olive?" Chuck asked quietly stepping towards the blonde.

Olive didn't reply, but merely stormed from The Pie Hole, the door slamming in her wake.

* * *

Chuck hesitantly knocked on the door to Olive's apartment.

"It's open," came a muffled reply.

Chuck opened the door and stepped inside, looking around for the blonde. Quietly she walked to Olive's bedroom. Olive was sitting on her bed, blanket wrapped around her, knees pulled up to her chest, and an old picture album lying before her.

"How did you know I wasn't some crazy stalker guy who has come to kidnap you?" Chuck asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame.

Olive gave a wry smile. "I had a feeling you would be stopping by."

Chuck smiled as she walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?"

Olive shrugged.

Chuck looked at the current picture that Olive had up. It was a picture of a younger Olive dressed in her racing garb; there was no mistaking that, and who Chuck could only assume to be her parents. All three were smiling brightly and looked happily content.

"Pim showing up was a big surprise?" Chuck said, saying the first thing she could think of to break the ice.

Olive sighed and nodded.

"You two don't get along?"

Olive laughed dryly. "Yes…no…sometimes. We got along better when we were younger. And as we got older it got harder to agree on anything. She's well, she's _Pim _and she's--," Olive broke off and shook her head. "But, I really wouldn't know anymore. I haven't seen her in years—," Olive paused and ran her hand over the photo sitting before her.

"My family raises and races horses," Olive's voice was quiet and nostalgic as she spoke. Chuck waited patiently for Olive to continue on. "They were beside themselves with joy when I became the first and only female jockey. For years I was the pride of the family. And then, when I told them I was quitting and moving to the city everything just stopped. I've never seen a group of people more disappointed before. They couldn't understand that I didn't want to race without my horse Pi. So I moved without telling anybody where exactly I was moving to and I refused to tell them where I worked. My own parents don't know where I live. I still talk to them, constantly, actually, but I've yet to tell them of my actual whereabouts. For all they know I'm living in London now, married with four children and a bad perm."

"Why don't you tell them now?" Chuck asked quietly, once Olive finished talking.

Olive shrugged. "I don't think I'll be able to stand the disappoint on their faces," Olive said meekly. "It's enough to hear it on the phone; I don't think I would actually be able to handle seeing it."

Chuck nodded and patted Olive's leg. "We all have to do things we don't want to," she said, sympathetically. Olive smiled sadly and nodded. "How come Ned never knew about your family?" Chuck asked, trying to lighten the mood. "He seemed surprised to learn you had a cousin."

Olive gave a bark of laughter. "We all have our secrets, Chuck."

Chuck smiled slightly. "I know how that feels."

"And it would easier if I didn't have to keep secrets that weren't mine," Olive said, giving Chuck a pointed look.

_So much for lightening the mood._

Charlotte Charles bit her lower lip and looked to her lap. "You know I can't do that Olive," she said quietly. "Not yet."

Olive sighed dramatically and flopped back onto her bed. "Well it was worth a try."

Chuck laughed awkwardly.

"You know what I really feel like?" Olive asked, looking at her bedroom ceiling.

"What?" Chuck asked, amused at Olive's blatant subject change.

"A girl's night."

"A girl's night?"

"Yeah, it's been years since I've had a sleep over."

Chuck laughed. "I'm afraid I've never been to a sleep over."

"What?!" Olive exclaimed, sitting up. "Really?!" All traces of sadness and nostalgia cleared from Olive Snook's face in her shock.

Chuck nodded, amused.

"How have you never had a sleep over before?" Olive said sounding insulted. "It's like a female right of passage."

"Olive, I grew up taking care of my aunts. I didn't have that many friends."

"Well, it's never too late," Olive said, jumping off of her bed and grabbing Chuck's hands. "And there's no time like the present."

Chuck laughed as Olive dragged her from the bedroom to the kitchen, retrieving two spoons and a large amount of booze and ice cream.

* * *

The next morning Olive stood watching the regular and decaf coffee pots fill. The brewing drink slowly filled the pots, in a rhythmic drop, one right after another. Drip, drop, drip, drop…drip…drop. One after another, after another, after another. It was hypnotic and, in its own way, soothing. The small consistent sound filled Olive's mind, occupying it; keeping her thoughts at bay until she actually wished to think about them.

It was like a symphonic composition, really; just without the frills and flare of music. Just a simple composition. One drop after another. She began to breathe around it. Deep breath in, drip-drop; deep breath out, drip-drop. She let her mind clear, filling with nothing but the blankness of mind and thought; or the lack there of. There were no customers sitting near by, there was no buzzing of the heater as it ran, no dirty dishes to be cleaned, no pies to be backed. There was nothing but the peaceful sound of the filling coffee pots.

She took in another deep breath.

"Hiya cousin."

Olive tensed and let her breath out slowly, going until there was no more left to leave her body. When her lungs screamed for more air she finally inhaled. She rolled her neck, trying to relax her muscles, and turned.

Pim was sitting at a counter, arms crossed on its surface, leaning forwards slightly. Olive narrowed her eyes and Pim quirked her brow.

"Again, Olive," Pim said, her voice filled with sarcasm. "It's wonderful to know you're happy to see me."

Olive sighed. "Maybe I would be if you didn't surprise me last night--," Pim opened her mouth to reply, but Olive continued on. "_Or_ if you hadn't brought up the one thing you knew I wouldn't want to talk about in front of people you should have guessed I didn't want to talk about it in front of."

"I was I supposed to know you wouldn't want to talk about your 'dark past' in front of those people," Pim bit back, sarcastic once more. "I haven't seen you in years, I didn't know you were keeping secrets from your friends."

"Don't be dramatic," Olive scoffed. "I don't have a dark past."

"Well it appears that way since you didn't want anyone to know about it."

Olive sighed and buried her face in her hands.

"Why did you do it, Olive?"

"Why did I do what?" Olive asked, her voice muffled.

"Why did you run away without telling us where you were? We were all depending on you."

"You all knew I was in the city, shouldn't that have been enough?"

"Well, as you can see it wasn't."

There was silence. Finally Olive looked up to see her cousin staring at her through accusing, narrowed eyes.

"Are you ever going to answer my question?"

"You've asked many in the last five minutes, Pim. Which answer were you looking for?"

Anger flashed across Pim's face. "Why did you leave?"

Silence filled the air once more as the two cousins stared at one another. Finally Olive spoke: "Why did you move to the city, Pim?"

Pim groaned. "Olive, that's not--,"

"Just answer the question, Pim." Olive's terse voice interrupted Pim.

Pim eyed Olive before sighing. "I couldn't take anymore horses. It horses this and horses that. Racing and racing and more racing. I just couldn't take it anymore--," Pim paused when she caught the look of triumph on Olive's face. "Don't give me that look," she quickly snapped. "It's not the same thing and you know it."

"Why not?" Olive asked through gritted teeth.

"Because at least I had the decency to tell our family where I was going. Everyone knows my new address and where to find me. I didn't disappear off the face of the earth."

"I didn't disappear off the face of the earth. How many times do I have to tell you that I talk to my parents constantly?"

"And what about the rest of us, Olive? Hm? We're were all depending on you!"

When Olive spoke, her voice was dangerously low and calm. "You want to know why I left like I did, Pim?" She gripped the edge of the counter, her fingers turning a ghost white. "It's because of that look," Olive pointed to Pim's face. "Right there."

"What look?"

"The: I-can't-believe-you-I'm-more-disappointed-in-you-then-you-will-ever-know." Olive said tightly. "I refuse to see it. It's my life Pim and I didn't want it to be tied to horses and racing anymore, just…like…you." With a shove Olive pushed away from the counter and turned, ready to walk away.

"Olive," Pim called timidly.

Olive froze. Her entire body was urging her to go forward but her mind made her turn slowly until she was once again facing her cousin. "What Pim?" She asked, resigned.

"I—I'm sorry," Pim said, looking crestfallen. "I shouldn't have been so—so--,"

"Pushy?" Olive offered, walking around the counter to sit on the free stool next to Pim.

Pim smiled slightly. "Yeah," she laughed lightly. "You know me, I've never been for patience."

Olive laughed lightly, "Neither was I." Silence engulfed them as the two stared at each other once more. "I really am happy to see you, Pim. You know that, right?"

Pim reached over and grabbed Olive's hand; she gave it a tight squeeze. "I know."

The two cousins sat, talking. It didn't occur to either of them that Olive was technically on the clock and should be working, but since there were hardly any customers and Ned had yet to come and tell Olive to do anything; neither cared. The caught up on lost time, quickly falling back into their old routine.

Olive laughed as Pim recounted stories of incidents that had occurred at recent family gatherings she had missed, feeling a slight twang of longing at not being there to see them happen first hand. Pim listened intently as Olive filled her in on what life had been like for her in the city, and the dos and donts of living there.

"Please tell me you got a job before moving here," Olive said.

Pim laughed. "I did actually, at that candy shop across the street."

Olive froze and her mouth dropped to the floor. "You got a job at B-B-Bittersweets?" she stumbled.

Pim nodded. "Dilly is the one who told me you worked here. Care to explain to me why she mumbled 'Trunk Monkey' when I mentioned your name?" She asked, amused.

Olive blushed and opened her mouth to respond when the bell rang and Alfredo walked in.

"Good morning, Olive," the traveling salesman said, giving a small wave to Olive and the unfamiliar woman sitting next to her.

" 'Morning Alfredo," Olive replied, smiling. "A macchiato?"

Alfredo shook his head as he sat down. "Just a decaf-coffee, today."

"Who is that?" Pim whispered, eyes wide, as Alfredo turned his attention to the newspaper he held.

"Who?" Olive asked, confused at the look on her cousins face.

"Him?" Pim pointed towards Alfedo Aldarisio.

"Who, Alfredo?" Olive asked, turning slightly to the man then back to Pim. Pim nodded. "He's just a customer," Olive said, hopping off of her chair and walking around the corner to get Alfredo's coffee.

"You seem to know him, though."

Olive shrugged, her back to Pim, as she poured the coffee. "He comes in a lot. You know I--," Olive turned to see that she no longer had the company of her cousin. Her eyes scanned the room and her blood ran cold.

Pim was standing at Alfredo's table, engaging him in a conversation. Though Olive hadn't seen her cousin in years, but it hadn't been too long where she didn't recognize what Pim was doing, exactly. Pim tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and leaned against the table; raising her right foot slightly behind her and twirling it. She laughed at something Alfredo said and the man gave a small smile. It seemed that Pim had quickly found her new interest in the city. Olive watched in horror as Pim gracefully slid into the seat across from Alfredo, the move so nonchalant it was brilliant. Olive felt her mouth run dry as Pim rested her chin on her hand and continued to flirt. After a beat and more conversation, Pim stood up, smiled brightly to Alfredo and walked away; heading straight to Olive.

"He's cute," Pim whispered, upon returning.

Olive gripped the coffee cup she had filled tightly, and felt time stop as the unmistakable and horrible feeling a jealousy surged through her body.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there it is! I hope you liked it!!!

Thanks to anyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it!

Until next time,  
Kate


	4. Chapter Four: Outburst

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…but how cool would that be?

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Four: Outburst**

Olive Snook was pretending to refill sugar dispensers. She was, however, doing nothing of the sort. Surreptitiously, Olive was watching, out of the corner of her eye, Pim Madison and Alfredo Aldarisio talking. There was something agitating about Pim's posture.

She sat with her legs crossed under the table, bouncing her foot dangerously close to Alfredo's legs. She rested her weight on her elbows, leaning forward slightly, setting her head atop her clasped hands. She wiggled and she animatedly told Alfredo some story. Alfredo smiled and nodded and replied. Pim laughed loudly, slightly louder than Olive thought necessary. Olive flinched as Pim lowered one hand to the table and tapped her fingers close to Alfredo's arm.

Had anyone else been talking to Alfredo, Olive knew she wouldn't feel so--she couldn't even describe what she felt. Olive also knew that if Pim had just been talking to Alfredo she wouldn't feel so-what-ever-she-felt. But Olive knew that Pim was not _simply talking_—but flirting.

Olive had known Pim too long not to recognize the signs. After all she had seen it happen many times before. The little bounce of the foot, her tapping fingers, _that wiggle_. It was all the same. Olive suddenly felt as though the years that had passed since she had last seen Pim had disappeared. Nothing had changed.

Olive had always envied how Pim handled her love life. Olive had never seen anything like it. Pim didn't hold onto to emotions and feelings like Olive did. If a man didn't return her feelings she forgot about him as well, moving on to the next one she saw fit. She flirted easily. She was carefree without being careless or overly exuberant. She didn't get hung up on one man nor did she obsess like Olive was prone to do.

Olive had tried to handle her love life like Pim did. But she just couldn't. Where Pim's emotions didn't hold her back, Olive's emotions made her hang on.

It was obvious by the way Pim was sitting that she had chosen her newest love interest in the city: Alfredo Aldarisio.

Olive sighed as she filled the last of the sugar dispensers. Looking for something to do she picked up the regular and decaf coffee pots and started to make her rounds. She was doing a good job at avoiding Alfredo and Pim's table but still keeping an eye on them when Alfredo motioned her over. With a silent groan, Olive walked over.

"Hiya Olive," her cousin said when she finally approached the table.

"Hiya Pim," Olive replied, tired.

"You two already know each other?" Alfredo asked, looking between the two women.

Olive nodded as Pim answered. "We sure do, we're cousins."

Alfredo's eyes went wide and he looked panic stricken. "C-C-Cousins?" He choked out.

"Yes," Olive replied, narrowing her eyes at Alfredo's strange reaction. Pim let out a small laugh. Olive's eyes narrowed further, "Don't you have a job to get to, Pim?" She asked as Alfredo fumbled with his jacket pocket and pulled out one of his mood enhancers; squeezing three drops into his mouth.

Pim smiled. "Actually, Dilly was kind enough to let me start next week so I could get settled into my apartment."

"Then shouldn't you be doing that?"

"I'm almost done, actually," Pim replied smugly.

"If you ladies will excuse me," Alfredo said standing up. "But I have to get going. It was a pleasure to meet you Pim. Goodbye Olive."

"Bye, Alfredo," Olive said as Pim waved sweetly, both watching as Alfredo left The Pie Hole in a rush.

"What did you say to him?" Olive asked skeptically.

"He's kind of charming in a quirky sort of way, isn't he?" Pim asked, directing a steady gaze on Olive and ignoring her question.

"I wouldn't know," Olive replied. She lied. Two days ago Olive had had the fleeting thought that Alfredo Aldarisio was indeed charming in a quirky sort of way. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't harass my customers."

"Believe me, cousin," Pim said with a smile. "There was no harassing."

"Well you must have done something to make him leave like that."

"What makes you think it was something I said?" Pim asked. "Perhaps it was something that you did."

"Whatever," Olive replied, walking away. Pim laughed and shook her head, staring at the spot Alfredo had been occupying moments before.

* * *

_The fantasy started as it had the first time…_

_Olive stood in The Pie Hole, cleaning up after closing. She felt lonely and lost. Unsure like she had missed something; a feeling, of confusion._

_She ran her hand along the counter, dragging her finger tips across the smooth marble surface. She stopped at the coffee cup that was sitting on the middle of the black surface. She tilted her head and cautiously picked up the cup, as if it would disappear upon her touch; when a noise behind her caught her attention. She turned to see Alfredo walk through the door._

_"Olive," he said, breathlessly._

_A smile formed on Olive's face as she set the cup down "Fredo," she said, walking over to him. She stopped just short of Alfredo, almost touching but not quite. Her eyes were drawn to his and she suddenly felt lost and found at the same time. "I knew it was you," she said, quietly, not even realizing she had spoken._

_Alfredo smiled and leaned forward, closing the small distance that was between them._

_As they kissed Olive's eyes slipped shut and she tenderly wrapped her arms around Alfredo's neck as his encircled her waist. She felt an indescribable warmth flood through her body. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt in her entire life. _

_Alfredo lifted her, pulling her off the ground and turning._

_The spinning made her anything but dizzy. She merely clung tighter, trying to make any remaining space between them disappear. _

_There were often times in her life when Olive felt incomplete. But at this exact moment, Olive felt whole, for the first time in a long while, and she was certain she would never be incomplete again._

_Slowly, Alfredo lowered Olive back to the ground as their kiss ended. Olive sighed, when she felt Alfredo's lips completely leave hers, and smiled. Lazily, she opened her eyes and felt her breath hitch._

_Alfredo Aldarisio was standing before her no more.. His kind and caring features were replaced with the taunting features of one Jonah Burke. Olive gasped as she suddenly felt herself lose the ability to breath. She took a step back and nearly tripped, only to be saved by Jonah's arms circling around her waist._

_"Olive, come one," he said. "We're going to be late."_

_Olive opened her mouth to respond. 'Late?' the question hung on her tongue, the word not actually making way out her mouth. She looked around feeling lost and confused. _

_She was no longer in The Pie Hole. Rather, Jonah was dragging her down an aisle of what appeared to be a wedding. Who was getting married? She panicked and looked down; relieved to see she was neither wearing a wedding dress or any type of white dress._

_Jonah pulled her all the way down the aisle to the front row of seating. Feeling dazed Olive allowed Jonah to sit her down, vaguely aware that he had laced their fingers and was now holding her hand. She looked down at her hand in a haze as he gave her a comforting squeeze._

_Olive shook her head and looked around. They were outside. The sun was shining and birds were singing. Flowers lined the middle aisle, in full bloom. Everything was bright and colorful, yet Olive felt some how disconnected. As if she were watching everything take place from outside of her own body._

_Why was she at a wedding? Why was she at a wedding with Jonah? What happened to Fredo? Where had he—_

_Olive's eyes settled on the alter and she felt her body grow cold. Alfredo Aldarisio, the man who she had been kissing in The Pie Hole minutes ago, was standing at the alter in a freshly pressed tuxedo waiting to be married._

_Suddenly music started and there was movement; Olive stood, automatically, in respect as the bride made her way down the aisle. Olive craned her neck around the people sitting behind her to see the bride. She felt her heart stop and had the feeling she actually knew what it was like to be dead._

_Her own cousin, Pim Madison, was walking down the aisle in a modest, white, and beautiful wedding dress. _

_Olive felt her knees give out beneath her and she clutched the chair for support as she sat herself down. Her entire body felt like jelly. She couldn't think or move as everything around her became even more of a haze._

_She was vaguely aware that the priest who stood at the alter was speaking. There was no sense of time. There was only the hole that had somehow been carved into Olive's heart. There was no way that Aflredo was marrying Pim. It couldn't be happening. And yet, it was. Olive couldn't move, couldn't speak, she couldn't do anything._

_Jonah's hand was cold against hers as he cradled her smaller hand in his larger one._

_"If there is anyone present," the priest's voice suddenly broke through Olive's haze. "who is against the joining of these two people speak now or forever hold your peace."_

_Swiftly, Olive pulled her hand from Jonah's grasp and stood. She had to stop this. She couldn't allow it to happen. Alfredo couldn't marry Pim. Olive wouldn't stand for it. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if it actually happened._

_Olive took a step forward to protest but found herself falling. The wedding disappeared and she was alone. In a black pit just falling…falling...falling…falling…_

Olive woke with a start, jumping and sitting up. She took deep rapid breaths, looking around frantically. She was in her room. She was home. She had been sleeping.

"A dream," she breathed clutching her chest, pulling at the material of her pajamas, trying to cool down. "It was only a dream."

Digby was lying, curled in a ball, next to her. Olive's spastic movements woke him and he lazily looked up at her.

"A simple dream," Olive continued speaking into the night, trying to calm herself. "Nothing to be worried about. Just a dream."

Olive looked over to Digby, who was keeping a steady eye on her.

"Don't give me that look," she said to the dog. "It was just a dream. It doesn't mean I have feelings for Alfredo."

Digby made a noise that was somewhere between a whine and a groan and uncurled from his ball; stretching out across the bed, resting his head in Olive's lap.

"It was only a dream. There's nothing to worry about," Olive spoke again, lightly patting Digby's head. "Right?"

Digby snored.

Olive groaned and flopped back onto the bed.

* * *

It had been four days, fourteen hours, and fifty-seven minutes since Pim Madison had once again made an appearance in Olive Snook's life. It had been three days, four hours and fifty-seven minutes since Pim Madison had known Alfredo Aldarisio. And in those three days in the time that the two had both spent at The Pie Hole they had yet to leave the others side. They sat in Alfredo's regular booth talking, the flow of conversation coming easy to them both. They wouldn't break in their conversation until one or the other had to leave. Pim flirted and Alfredo seemed blissfully unaware of it. 

The clock in The Pie Hole kitchen struck the beginning of a new hour. Make it three days and five hours.

Olive Snook stood in the kitchen on The Pie Hole. She was at the counter, cutting butter into chunks for pies. She had a clear view of the dining area where she could see Alfredo and Pim sitting and talking. She huffed and cut into the butter with an angered force. The knife she used made a loud 'clank' with the metal table. Had anyone not known what Olive was cutting they would have assumed it was a tough meat by the shear force she was hacking away at the butter with.

She grumbled angrily as she continued to watch Alfredo and Pim in the other room.

Olive did not consider herself a jealous person. She usually did not hold such a form of contempt for other people. But as she watched Pim and Alfredo talk she could only describe the feeling that was coursing through her veins as simply that: jealousy.

She didn't understand why she was jealous. Why should it matter that Pim was talking with Alfredo? Why did it matter that Pim was _flirting_ with Alfredo. It didn't matter. It _shouldn't _matter. It shouldn't bother her that Alfredo seemed to either be unaware that Pim was flirting or just ignoring it. But it did some how matter.

She couldn't be jealous. There was no possible way she could be. And so she wasn't, she decided as Alfredo took a sip of coffee. She would convince herself otherwise, despite the fiery burning that was occupying her very soul.

And yet, it wasn't just jealousy that was consuming Olive and driving her mad. It was another feeling. A feeling she knew an understood, but couldn't quite face. Because that was near impossible. She couldn't possibly feel _that_ for Alfredo. It was preposterous. And yet, Olive knew, deep down, that perhaps it really wasn't.

"Hi Olive," Chuck said as she and the Pie Maker walked into the kitchen.

Olive jumped at the sound of company. She was able to suppress a scream but the knife she had been holding flew out of her hand. The three occupants of the kitchen watched in horror as the knife flew into the air before tumbling towards the floor; making way for Ned's foot. The knife clattered loudly as it hit the ground just short of Ned's foot.

Olive's eyes were wide, Chuck's hand covered her mouth, and Ned was frozen with horror as the knife bounced twice before settling still.

A sheepish smile appeared on Olive's face. "Well," she breathed, "At least it wasn't a butcher knife."

Ned's head tilted to the side and his jaw dropped even more. Keeping his gaze on Olive he bent and picked up the butter knife.

"Well that's what you get for startling a woman with a knife," Olive said indignantly, turning her nose up.

Chuck laughed, lowering her hand from her mouth. "Sorry, Olive," she said, walking over to the counter and leaning against its cool surface.

"That's alright," Olive replied. "And sorry Ned," she said as Ned set the knife on the counter.

Ned smiled. "Don't worry about," he replied, walking over to the sink.

"So, Olive…" Chuck began to speak but Olive quickly became oblivious to what was being said, her gaze once again falling to the other room where Pim and Alfredo continued to talk.

"Olive?" Chuck asked, when she realized Olive was not paying attention to her. "Olive?" She snapped her fingers in front of Olive's face, but was unsuccessful of drawing her attention.

"Olive!" Ned said rather loudly, finally making Olive jump and come back to the present around her.

"Would you stop scaring me?" she said, breathlessly.

"Sorry," Ned said sheepishly, "But Chuck was trying to get your attention."

Olive blushed. "Oh, sorry Chuck," she said somewhat absent-mindedly turning her gaze once again back to the other room.

Ned and Chuck shared a bemused looked before following Olive's gaze. They shared another confused look when they realized what Olive was looking at.

"You're cousin--she has been spending a lot of time with that same customer," Chuck said, grabbing Olive's attention before she was too far gone. Ned shrugged and went back to cleaning the dishes; making a point to make as noise as he could so as to not over hear Chuck and Olive's conversation.

Olive shrugged.

"What's his name again?"

"Alfredo," Olive replied, without a second thought. Olive continued to watch Pim and Alfredo as Chuck watched Olive. Olive twitched slightly as she saw Pim reach across the table and tap the table close to Alfredo's arm.

"Olive?" Chuck asked, waiting until Olive finally turned towards her. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy as pie," Olive replied, rather stiffly, never tearing her eyes from the other room.

"Are you sure?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Olive asked, "It shouldn't matter whether or not Pim and Alfredo have been talking non stop for the last three days. It doesn't matter. I don't care. I'm fine," Olive said, quickly and tersely.

Chuck looked amused as she continued to watch Olive. Looking over the top of Olive's head to make sure Ned wasn't paying attention to their conversation, she leaned close to Olive and spoke: "Olive, are you jealous?" She asked, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice; she failing.

Olive turned towards Chuck faster than lightning. "I most certainly am not jealous!" She replied slightly louder than necessary before stomping from the kitchen in a huff.

The Pie Maker turned from his spot at the kitchen sink, looking at Chuck with a look of amusement, wonderment, and question. His silent message was clear: 'What was that about?'

"Don't look at me," Chuck replied. "I don't know a thing."

* * *

The pie restaurant that could be considered a "pie heaven", know as The Pie Hole, would be closing in one hour. 

There were only six people currently occupying the restaurant: The Pie Maker, Ned, the woman he loved, Charlotte Charles, the waitress, Olive Snook, Olive's cousin, Pimento Madison, the traveling salesman, Alfredo Aldarisio, and the private investigator, Emerson Codd.

The Pie Maker, Chuck, and Emerson all sat in a booth, talking amongst themselves. Pim sat listening as Alfredo Aldarisio explained, in depth, about the herbal mood enhancers that he sold. And Olive Snook was brooding.

Olive sat at the counter of The Pie Hole, eating a cup of ice cream, though she could not taste the sweet treat. Her back was too the marble counter top, using it as a support and she sat, watching as Pim and Alfredo talked; she could hear their conversation but none of the words they spoke registered in her mind.

The five other occupants of The Pie Hole were so absorbed in their conversations that they did not notice Olive Snook staring intently, and with narrowed eyes, at the booth occupied by Pim and Alfredo.

Olive's bad mood had worsened throughout the day. She reckoned she was becoming damn near obsessed with the friendship of her cousin and Alfredo. "I'm becoming damn near obsessed," she whispered to her self, taking a bite of ice cream and choking on it, spitting part of it back out. She coughed, but no one noticed. She wiped her mouth clean and set her ice cream cup on the counter behind her. She was the only one who didn't have anyone to talk to. But she didn't care. "I don't want to talk to them anyways," she said, moodily to herself.

Olive continued to watch as Pim and Alfredo continued to talk. She told herself she couldn't wrap her mind around why it infuriated her so. Though, the truth was that she could wrap her mind around it, she just refused to believe what she had wrapped her mind around was actually true. She wouldn't admit to herself what she thought she was feeling she was actually, truly feeling.

Her eyes narrowed even further as Pim once again began to reach across the table towards Alfredo's arm. But this time something was different and Olive's world quickly changed.

As Pimento Madison was reaching across the table to rest her hand near Alfredo Aldarisio's arm, Olive Snook quickly came to the realization that, this time, Pim had no intention of stopping; she would reach across the table until her hand rested comfortably on Alfredo's arm. Her momentum was different; there would be no stopping short. She was going for broke.

Olive felt her breath hitch and she suddenly felt like she was thrown into some bad horror movie. The colors around her changed to black and white and time seemed to slow, until everything was moving at a snail's pace.

Alfredo, the poor innocent victim that he was, was blissfully unaware that the monster was staring him in the face, and would soon eat his arm. The other occupants of the room, Ned, Chuck, and Emerson, having no idea what was taking place next to them; only to realize it after the monster was revealed, giving them no time to escape before they, too, were eaten. And petrified Olive, who knew exactly what was going to happen, was too scared to move.

Pim's hand continued to reach across the table, breaking the half way point

Images began to distort and swirl, blending together until the only thing that was clear were Pim and Alfredo. Olive's heart rate increased and she could hear the pounding of it in her ears; making her vaguely aware that the "Jaws Theme" had begun to play in her mind. .

Duuuuh dum…Thump Thump…Pim's hand got closer…duuuh dum…thump thump…and closer…duuh dum, duh dum…and closer…duh dum, duh dum, duh dum…contact.

"Stop!!!"

Alfredo, Pim, Ned, Chuck, and Emerson all jumped when Olive screamed. They all turned towards Olive, to see the waitress standing by the counter, fists clenched at her side, staring at Alfredo and Pim.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" She exclaimed again.

"Stop what, Olive?" Pim asked slowly, having never seen such an outburst from her cousin; especially directed towards her.

"Stop the—the touching," Olive motioned with her hand at Alfredo's arm. Alfredo looked down and realized, as if for the first time, that Pim was touching his arm. He jumped and awkwardly pulled his arm from Pim's grasp. "And—and---the _flirting_. And—and everything!" Olive waved her hands in front of her for emphasis.

"F-F-Flirting?" Alfredo asked, stuttering, looking panicked.

"Why should I?" Pim asked in a daring tone, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Because," Olive answered, losing some of her anger and looking more uncomfortable, aware of the eyes watching her.

"Why, Olive?" Pim pressed, leaning towards her cousin slightly

"Because!"

"Because why?"

"Because I like Alfredo!" Olive yelled.

There was a simultaneous gasp as Olive's hand shot to her mouth and she willed the words back into her mouth; not truly believing the words that had left her mouth, but knowing that they were, indeed, true. Alfredo looked shocked, Pim smirked, Ned's jaw dropped, Chuck's eyes went wide, and Emerson laughed.

Finally, after a moment of awkward silence, Olive lowered her hand and looked sheepishly at Alfredo. "I think I'll take you up on that dinner offer," she said, blushing.

Alfredo Aldarisio smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter four! I hope you liked it :D 

Thanks to everyone who left a review!! I really appreciate it!

Until next time,  
Kate


	5. Chapter Five: Dempsa's Dining Diner

**Disclaimer: **I do not, in any way shape or form, own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Five: Dempsa's Dining Diner**

Olive Snook looked at the address number she held in her hand, then to the number on the blue door she stood before, then to the paper in her hand, and back again. She proceeded the process four more times before shifting uncomfortably. She fiddled with her jacket, trying to straighten the dress she wore through its thick material. She gulped, looked around nervously, and rose her hand to the wooden surface. With a quick knock she retracted her hand, stuffing both appendages in her coat pockets.

There was a pause, a shuffling sound from behind the door before it opened with gusto and a bang.

"Cousin, what a lovely surprise," Pim said, leaning against the door frame looking slightly amused.

"Hiya Pim," Olive replied quietly as a nippy wind blew threw the air. "Can I come in?"

"Sure thing," Pim said with a smile, pushing away from the door way and walking further into her apartment.

Olive followed suit and was immediately hit with warm temperature of Pim's apartment. Olive coughed, pulling at the top of her jacket, "You really are the devil, aren't you?"

Pim snorted. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you're living in hell!" Olive exclaimed, making Pim laugh. "Really, Pim, it's like a furnace in here."

"I'm quite comfortable, actually," Pim said, sitting down on her couch with an elegant flop. It was Olive's turn to snort making Pim smirk. "Well you know me, I get cold easily."

"So do I," Olive replied, "But this is really ridiculous."

"Oh shut up, take your coat off, and sit down," Pim said dramatically, pulling on Olive's arm until she landed, ungracefully, on the couch.

Olive huffed and stood up again, shrugging her coat off, and folding it over the back of the couch.

"Going somewhere?" Pim asked, taking notice of the midnight blue dress Olive was wearing.

Olive blushed and looked down, picking at the hem line of her dress. "Dinner," she said, quietly.

"With Alfredo?"

Olive's blush spread to her neck as she nodded, "Look Pim," she said, sitting down next to her cousin. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Pim asked, intrigued.

Olive nodded. "I wanted to apologize." Olive explained quietly.

"Why?" Pim asked, knitting her eye brows.

Olive shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it just seemed like you liked him and--,"

Pim let out a loud laugh, interrupting Olive. "Oh, Olive, I'm not interested in Alfredo," she managed to say through her laughter.

"You're not?" Olive's brow narrowed.

Pim hiccupped. "No."

"But you were so—_flirty_," Olive said uncomfortably.

"Well, maybe I was interested when I first met him," Pim explained, once her laughter died down. "But not anymore. Besides, it was obvious you like him, so--," Pim shrugged.

"Obvious I like him?" Olive asked, her voice rising. "How is it obvious I like him? I didn't even know. I still don't know. I'm not even sure if what I'm feeling is what I'm exactly feeling. Or if it is what I should be feeling--.'

Pim placed her hand over Olive's mouth, silencing her. Olive's wide eyes stared back at her cousin. "Would you like me to begin with the smile that broke across your face the minute he walked into The Pie Hole? Or the death glare you've been giving me all week?"

Olive grabbed Pim's hand away from her mouth. "But if you 'knew I like him'," she said, using air quotes. "And you're not interested, then why were you so flirty?"

Pim smiled. "I took a wild guess that you hadn't changed when it came to your love life. So I thought I'd give you a push in the right direction," Pim said, patting Olive's cheek.

Olive cringed slightly at the contact and pulled away. "You were flirting with him to make me jealous?"

Pim's smile widened and she shrugged, leaning back into the corner of the couch.

Silence folded over them as Olive looked at her cousin, rather accusingly. "Just what I need," Olive mumbled quietly, turning to look at the wall opposite her, "Someone else interfering in my love life."

"Besides," Pim said, pointedly ignoring Olive's muttering. She lifted her feet from the ground and placed them unceremoniously in Olive's lap. An 'oof' escaped Olive's lip; she pushed Pim's feet off her lap, only to have her cousin place them there again. "Even if I _was_ interested and you _didn't _have feelings for him, it's not like I would even stand a chance. He's completely head-over-heels for you. I mean, ever other word out of his mouth was Olive-this and Olive-that. It was charming for the first hour, but after the first hour I felt like socking him."

Though Pim's speech had been rather long, Olive hadn't heard half of it. After the words _head-over-heels_ Olive's mind had gone blank, only focusing on those words; her face pale. She began to take deep breaths.

"H-Head-over-heels?" Olive managed to say.

"Well sure!" Pim exclaimed. "Why do you think he had that panic attack when he found out we were cousins? He had just finished gushing about you."

"Oh," Olive breathed out, her body beginning to tremble.

"Olive?" Pim asked, concerned, shaking Olive by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm," Olive squeaked.

Pim continued to stare at her cousin, as Olive began to become more and more agitated and panicked. "Oh Olive," Pim finally said, having a feeling she knew why her cousin was enduring a minor panic attack. "You didn't realize it did you?"

Olive blushed a deep scarlet-red. "No," she said quietly. "I mean, he had asked me to dinner the other day. But I hadn't realized--."

"What you thought it was a 'Gee-you-seem-kind-of-nice-let's-go-have-dinner-and-see-where-this-goes?"

Olive nodded.

Pim smiled. "I hate to break it to you cousin, but it's anything but that."

Olive let out a long, shaky breath.

"Heavens, Olive. You really haven't changed, have you?"

Olive cast her cousin a side ways glance as she smiled bashfully. "Guess not."

* * *

Olive Snook's fingers had turned a ghostly white from gripping the steering wheel of her car. She had long ago shut off the motor and now she sat; staring at the building before her. The words DEMPSA'S DINING DINER flashed above her, a bright glowing orange. In all the years she had lived in the city she had never been to, or even heard of, the diner that she sat before now. It was in a hidden part of town, one she hadn't even known existed. She was surrounded by quaint craft shops and small businesses. Had she not been so petrified, she would have made a mental note to come back tomorrow and browse the shops.

She had a clear view of Alfredo sitting in a window side booth. She watched as he tapped his fingers on the table before checking his watch. She wasn't late. She knew she wasn't. She still had ten minutes. Was he expecting her to be early? She gulped and continued to stare, five minutes. She would give herself five minutes.

Olive didn't know what to think or what to feel or even if she should think and feel at all. Never once did it cross her mind that Alfredo's interest in her could be anything more than a small crush and a curiosity to see if there could be more. But Pim's term "Head-Over-Heels" had made Olive react in a way she hadn't been prepared for.

Sure she had seen the looks and that sweet smile, always directed at her. And she had understood what they stood for after Alfredo asked her to dinner earlier in the week. But now, now she truly understood.

Olive gulped, and clutched the steering wheel tighter; listening to the ticking of her watch as the seconds went by. "Breath Olive," she reminded herself, taking deep shallow breaths that were sure to lead to hyperventilation.

Just because Alfredo had strong feelings for her, didn't mean she had them for him or even_ had _to have them for him. Yes, she had had her simple fantasy of Alfredo sweeping her off her feet in The Pie Hole. But that's all it had been. A fantasy. Right?

Olive shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. Just like she always did. She supposed that was her real problem was. She focused on tomorrow instead of the here and now. She sighed and made a conscious, forceful effort to unclench her hands from the vice-grip she had on the steering wheel.

Shaking slightly, Olive left and locked her car, walking towards the entrance to the diner. Her stomach was in knots. It felt as though a swarm of butterflies, popcorn, and Mexican jumping beans had been let loose in her stomach. "Like a fiesta," she muttered darkly, before pulling open the doors and walking inside.

* * *

There was a special warmth that accompanied Dempsa's Dining Diner, that had nothing to do with its state of the art heating system.

It was old and quaint. The paint was chipped on some places on the wall and the chairs creaked when you sat on them. The floor carried scuff marks and the windows were tinted from the constant glow of the sun. At first glance the diner appeared dirty, but it was anything but that. It was just worn from years of loyal customer use. It was a character all its own.

Olive took in a deep breath, breathing in the smells that wafted from the kitchen. Her reaction, like the many before her and the many to come, was immediate. She had fallen in love with the quaint place.

"Howdy ho," a woman with dark rimmed glasses said, approaching Olive from behind the counter she stood before. "Can I help you?"

Olive smiled at the woman's dimpled smile, immediately feeling a cease to her nerves. "Actually I, um, I'm meeting that man over there," Olive said, pointing towards Alfredo, who hadn't seem to notice her enter; he stared at his hands, tapping them lightly on the table.

"Hm," The woman behind the counter said. "Well, go on over he's been waiting for you." The woman's face quickly changed from a smile to a frown.

"I—uh, thank you," Olive said, awkwardly, feeling smaller then she really was under the woman's now scrutinizing gaze. With a cough, Olive walked over to Alfredo's table.

"Hiya, Fredo," Olive said, making Alfredo jumped.

"Olive!" the man exclaimed, standing quickly. "Hello. Um. Let me get your coat," he said, hurriedly walking behind Olive and helping her remove her green coat.

"Thank you," Olive replied, smiling softly when she felt Alfredo's shaky hands helping her.

"Uh—sit, sit," Alfredo said, motioning for Olive to sit and waiting until she was situated to follow suit. "Did you," he coughed, "Find this place okay? I mean, obviously you did, because you're here."

"Yes, I did. I never knew this part of town existed," Olive explained. "I'm going to have to come back so day and shop."

Alfredo smiled. "Yes, it's nice. Maybe, we can come back some day. Not that I'm making assumptions about anything--,"

Olive smiled as she continued to listen to Alfredo explain how he was neither assuming or presumptuous or anything of the sort about whether Olive would want to spend more time with him; suddenly feeling ridiculous for being nervous at all.

* * *

Olive took a sip of her Tropic Cherry Soda Cola. It was weird tasting, in a surprisingly good way. She took another small sip and set it on the table.

"Don't you ever get tired of traveling all the time?"

"Well, it's like I said before, a traveling salesman isn't such a thing if he does not travel."

"Of course he's not," Olive replied. "But you didn't answer my question. Don't you get tired of it?"

Alfredo fell silent as he stared at Olive across from her. Olive quirked her head to the side and rose one brow, pursing her lips slightly. Alfredo chuckled and shook his head before answering: "I suppose I do sometimes. It's a job though," Alfredo shrugged. "One has to do what one has to do."

Olive considered the man before her, tilting her head to the side. "You don't like it?"

"I like it well enough, the salesman part that is. It's the traveling part that becomes tiring."

"So then, if you were given the chance to do something else, would you take it?"

"Are you offering me a job?" Alfredo asked, amused.

Olive smiled and shrugged. "Just curious." Silence fell over the two as they each took a sip of their drinks. "So, if you could do anything in the entire world, what would you do?" Olive asked, after setting her drink down.

Alfredo shrugged again. "I suppose I would open my own shop and sell my pharmaceuticals there, instead of on the road."

"_Your _pharmaceuticals?" Olive asked, astonished.

Alfredo's brow rose. "Have you been following our conversations at all?"

Olive waved her hand in the air, "Well, I didn't realize they were _yours_ I thought you just worked for some company."

Alfredo shook his head. "It's all me. I created, brewed, and bottled them all. I'm working on a new vanilla flavor at the moment."

Olive stared at the man across from her, astonished; seeing him a new light.

"So have you decided what you wanted?" The woman who had greeted Olive upon entering, asked.

"I have," Alfredo said. "What about you, Olive?"

Olive picked up the menu before her and bit her lip, "Um, I think so…what comes on the Dempsa's Cheesy Turkey Secret Sauce Sandwich?" she asked.

The woman stared at her in what Olive could only name as an 'Can-you-really-be-that-stupid' look. "Turkey, cheese, and secret sauce."

"Yes, but what is the secret sauce?"

"Well, if I told you it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?" The woman asked.

"You're lucky," Alfredo spoke up. "When I asked about it, she said she'd have to kill me."

The woman laughed, flashing Alfredo a small smile before turning her pointed gaze back to Olive. "Is that what you want?"

Olive narrowed her eyes. "Yes," she said, rather tightly, handing her menu back to the woman. She watched as the woman turned back to Alfredo, smiles and all. Alfredo, for what is was worth, seemed to be unaware of the small exchange that had just occurred between the two women of his company.

"Your order will be up in a jiffy," the woman said before walking away.

"Thank you, Dempsa," Alfredo said.

"Dempsa? So this is your diner?"

"It would appear that way, wouldn't it?" Dempsa responded in her same, short tone.

"Well, yes," Olive replied, tightly, "It's lovely," she finished after a pause.

"Thank you, deary," Dempsa replied, still giving Olive her pointed gaze. "I'll be back with you food shortly." Without another word Dempsa disappeared.

Olive turned back to Alfredo, prepared to comment on the looks she had been receiving from Dempsa; but laughed instead. Alfredo's arm was raised in the air, cup to his mouth, and liquid running down his shirt.

"Drinking problem?" Olive asked, through bits of laughter.

Alfredo scowled and picked up a napkin, dabbing at his shirt. "If I were any less of a gentleman I would have dumped the rest of my drink on you for that comment."

Olive rolled her eyes and snorted. "Like I'm going to believe that."

"You think I wouldn't do it?"

"If you were any less of a gentleman?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't think you would. Gentlemanly or not."

"Is that a challenge?"

Olive quirked a brow. "Does it sound like I'm challenging you?" she asked, quirking a brow.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps I am," Olive replied with a smile. "When shall I be expecting such a ghastly deed?"

Alfredo smiled. "When you least expect it, of course."

Olive snorted once more.

* * *

"Alright, what?" Olive asked, setting down her Dempsa's Cheesy Turkey Secret Sauce Sandwich.

"What?" Alfredo asked, a confused look covering his features.

"You want to say something," Olive explained with a point.

"I do?" Alfredo asked, taking a long gulp of his drink. "How do you know that?"

"Because, you have this weird look on your face; like you're about to say something, then right when you open your mouth you take a bite of your sandwich instead."

Alfredo looked guiltily down at his plate.

"Fredo?"

"I—I do have a question, but I don't know if I should ask it." The man said more to himself than to the woman across from him.

"Why," Olive asked, a small dread threading through her voice.

"It's, um, kind of-sort of personal."

"Kind of-sort of personal?"

"Well, more really, exactly actually is personal," Alfredo said, "But I was never one to name things."

Olive smiled slightly. "Personal for me or personal for you?" She asked, before taking another bite of her sandwich.

"It's a "personal for me" but only if you're talking."

"Only when I'm talking?" Olive asked, confused. "So it's personal for…" she paused. "For—for me?"

Alfredo smiled. "Yes."

"That was the most confusing explanation in the history of explanations."

"It's my way of stalling," Alfredo explained, smiling over a bite of his sandwich.

"Well quite stalling and out with it," Olive said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

Alfredo sighed. "I don't know."

"Oh just out with it, what's the worst that could happen?"

Alfredo looked Olive in the eye, regarding her for a moment. "I want to know what happened."

"Something happened?" Olive asked, her brow knitting in confusion.

Alfredo sighed again. "The something that has made you even more decidedly unhappy then you were before. I've only been gone for two months. It must have been something really bad."

When Olive realized what exactly Alfredo had been referring to her face went devoid of all emotion; a canvass of blank shock and devoid emotion. She stared at the traveling salesman across from her. His eyes were honest and open; the look of hope that he didn't cross some line apparent in his eyes. Her throat tightened, and her chest heaved slightly, and her hands clenched into fists.

She tired to form a single thought. It was obvious Alfredo was waiting for an answer; or a reaction. Which ever Olive offered him first. She tried to say something. Anything. But she couldn't. So she opened her mouth and let the first words that were there tumble off her tongue; what ever they may be, hoping they weren't embarrassing.

"Don't men understand it's not nice to comment on past relationships of first dates?" She asked quietly, tilting her head to the side and feeling as if she was once again sitting at The Pie Hole on Christmas Eve, eating chicken and salad and the best hot chocolate she had ever tasted.

Alfredo's eyes went wide and he began to panic. "I—oh see, shouldn't have brought it up. Um, let's just forget that ever happened shall we?"

As Alfredo continued to ramble, apology after apology coming from his mouth Olive suddenly remembered that she was not sitting in The Pie Hole on Christmas Eve. But rather, sitting in Dempsa's Dining Diner, eating a Dempsa's Cheesy Turkey Secret Sauce Sandwich, and sitting before Alfredo Aldarisio. Sweet Alfredo, who had never harmed her in any way shape or form and, Olive suspected, would never harm her.

And suddenly, Olive was overcome with the feeling to tell Alfredo what had happened. Having the feeling, that perhaps, telling him would make her feel better about it all. And so tell him she did.

* * *

"Alfredo? Alfredo?" Olive asked, waving her hand in front of the traveling salesman face.

Olive Snook had just finished telling Alfredo of her embarrassingly tragic yet brief relationship with one Jonah Burke. Alfredo now currently sat, fists clenched on top of the table, looking directly at Olive; but appearing to look through her. His eyes were wide, his mouth twitched, and he looked more angry than Olive had ever seen him. She had never before thought Alfredo could get angry.

"Fredo!" She said quietly, but forcefully, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. Alfredo's eyes focused and finally settled on Olive. "Fredo, are you okay?"

Alfredo dismissed Olive's question with a wave of the hand. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Olive looked confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know what I mean, Olive."

Olive sighed. "I'm fine. Better. Now."

Alfredo smiled then shook his head. "I still can't believe. If I ever--," his voice trailed off, as he turned his head to the window, watching the cold night.

Olive continued to watch the man across from her. She had not expected the kind of reaction she had received; though she was surprised to find that she was oddly comforted by it.

"You know I would never do anything like that, right?" Alfredo asked.

"Even if the earth lost its atmosphere?" Olive asked, smiling slyly.

Alfredo smiled. "Even if the earth lost its atmosphere," he replied. "Never."

Olive smiled who heartedly and reached across the table, placing her hand atop Alfredo's. "I know Fredo. I know."

* * *

Olive put her coat, standing behind Alfredo as he paid for their dinner at the counter.

"Thanks again, Dempsa," Aflredo said.

"Of course Alfredo, of course," Dempsa said sweetly. "And it was a pleasure to meet you, ah—I don't believe Alfredo ever said you're name, deary."

"Olive Snook," Olive replied.

"Well it as a pleasure to meet you Olive," Dempsa said sweetly, but still giving Olive her pointed gaze.

"You as well," Olive said half-reserved, half-confused.

"Have a nice night, you too."

"Good night Dempsa," Alfredo said, as Olive nodded. Alfredo, ever the gentleman, offered Olive his arm, which she gingerly took, trying to shy away from Dempsa's leveled gaze as she watched them leave.

The night air was cold and chill, making Olive shiver. She instinctively moved closer to Alfredo. Quietly, Olive allowed the man to lead her towards her car. When they got there, Olive turned, resting her back against the car door; she rocked on her heals. Alfredo stuffed his hands in his coat pocket.

"You know," Alfredo said with a nervous cough. "I don't think I've told you how beautiful you look, tonight," he finished quietly.

"Thank you," Olive said blushing.

Alfredo smiled and shrugged. "Well it's true."

"I—I had a really good time tonight, Fredo."

"Me too. Maybe, maybe we can do it again sometime?"

"I'd like that," Olive said with a smile. "I do need to come back and look at these shops. Maybe, like you said, we both could?"

"Most definitely."

Silence engulfed them as they awkwardly stood before eachother. Olive wondered if it was cosmically impossible for the goodnight of first dates to be anything other then awkward.

"Well, goodnight," Alfredo said.

"Goodnight," Olive replied.

They both tensed, as if to shift but neither being able to decide if they should or not. Or even if they were capable.

Finally Alfredo stuck his hand out, Olive placed her hand in his and was surprised when he shook it, formally. Olive smiled crookedly and giggled. Just as Alfredo was about to pull her hand from his, she felt a bold confidence sweep through her and she pulled his hand and him closer; standing on her tip toes, she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"I think that's how it's supposed to go," Olive said with a wide smile and a blush. Alfredo smiled, and Olive was certain that a small, yet manly, blush covered Alfredo's cheeks beneath his beard. "Goodnight," she added.

"Goodnight," Alfredo said again, before turning and walking towards his car.

Olive watched him walk away, a light shuffled in his step. She smiled. Suddenly, Alfredo stopped and turned around. Before Olive could register what was happening, Alfredo was marching determinedly towards her; not stop until the two were standing toe to toe.

"Fredo?" Olive asked, concerned, her face masked with worry.

Alfredo didn't respond, but, instead, wrapped his arm around Olive's waist and pulled her close, kissing her firmly yet chastely on the lips.

To say Olive Snook was stunned would have been an understatement, but stunned or not, Olive felt her eye lids slip close as a warmth flooded through her body. She brought her hand up to Alfredo's cheek.

And as soon as it had begun it was over. Alfredo pulled away and Olive stumbled forward slightly. "I think _that's_ how it's supposed to go," Alfredo whispered, a trace of amusement in his voice.

"Huh, yeah," was all Olive was able to get out.

Alfredo smiled. "Goodnight, Olive," he whispered, before walking away, leaving a breathless and stunned Olive in his wake.

"Huh yeah," Olive whispered, too stunned to manage anything else. Slowly she turned and got into her car, beginning her drive home; not even aware that she was smiling.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! I don't know when I'll be updating again. We shall see. Hopefully sometime later this week since I'm on break.

Thank you all for reading this and thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it.

Until next time,  
Kate


	6. Chapter Six: Tomorrow and The Hobbit

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **So I totally just realized I was spelling Emerson's last name wrong…feels stupid…on with the story…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Six: Tomorrow and The Hobbit**

Olive Snook awkwardly pulled down the last of the chairs from the last table, setting it down on the floor with an 'oomph,' before pushing it in. Having decided that on this particular day she would wear flat shoes, instead of her usual heals, Olive found it slightly difficult to pull the chairs off the tables; as the bottoms of the legs leveled with her eyes. She sighed, frustrated in her small lapse of judgment and walked behind the counter, beginning to wipe it down to make sure it was at its shiny best before any customers arrived for the day.

The bell above the door rang and Olive looked up.

"How do I look?" Pim asked, waltzing through the door and spinning.

"Like a dog discovered a box of taffy's, ate all of it, then decided to spit it back up," Olive replied without missing a beat, taking in her cousin's appearance.

Pim frowned then adjusted the hat atop her head. "That's disgusting," she replied, tartly.

Olive half-smiled, half-smirked as she took in the Bittersweets uniform her cousin was wearing. She wore a black skirt, a bright orange blouse with an equally bright green tie, and the same striped jacket that Billy Balsam once wore. To top it off, sitting atop her head was the awkward hat with a box of fake candy attached to it.

"You know," Pim said, sitting at the counter, "This hat is really awkward."

Olive snorted. "I still can't believe you are working at Bittersweets."  
"Why Olive, do I sense a bit of bitterness in your tone?"

"Hardly, my tone was sweet."

"And that was a lame come back," Pim retorted smiling.Olive rolled her eyes and threw the small towel she had been using, to wipe down the counter, at Pim. Pim giggled and threw the item back. "So, how was your dinner?" Pim asked, leaning forward on the counter and whispering conspiratorially. 

Olive pulled the towel away from her face and blushed; lowering her head she started to vigorously wipe at the counter. "It was good," she said shyly.

Pim laughed. "By that reaction I would say it was more than good," she said. "Come on indulge me in all of the girly details."

Olive rolled her eyes and threw the towel at Pim once more. "Don't you have a job to get to?"

Pim smiled smugly, "No, I have another—oh I have to go!" She nearly yelled after looking at her watch and realizing there were exactly fifty-eight seconds until she had to be at work. "Bye Olive!" She called as she ran out the door and across the street.

Olive laughed quietly, shaking her head

"What was that?" Ned asked, sticking his head around the kitchen door way, having just heard what seemed to be yelling.

"What was what?" Olive asked, putting a confused look on her face.

"It sounded like someone yelled," Ned replied.

Olive furrowed her brow. "Ned, I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "I'm the only one here."

"Really?" Ned asked, confused. Olive nodded. "I could have sworn."

"Oh, Ned," Olive said sadly, "I think those fruit fumes have finally gotten to you. Try not to inhale too deeply, 'kdokey?" 

"I—yeah," Ned replied, more confused than before. "…Right."

Olive sniggered quietly as The Pie Maker disappeared into the kitchen once more.

* * *

�

Olive felt like she had finally lost it.

Every time a new customer walked into The Pie Hole she would look up and see Alfredo. A bright smile would cover her face and she would step forward to greet him, only to realize just before she reached him (and to save herself from embarrassment), it was not Alfredo who had walked in. There were no boundaries when it came to who she imagined as Alfredo: men, woman, children, old, young, groups upon groups. All would walk in and her first thought was that Alfredo had entered.

By twelve o'clock Olive had seen a total of twenty-nine Alfredos

"I've finally lost it," she muttered after realizing that number thirty was once again not _the _Alfredo Aldarisio, but instead an old woman who hobbled and looked like she would fall over by the simple gust of wind created by a child on a bike.

It was twelve-thirty and the real Alfredo Aldarisio had yet to walk through the door. Olive began to feel her nerves rise. He was always at The Pie Hole before twelve. Olive knew Alfredo was free to come and go as he pleased. And he didn't have to go anywhere if he didn't want to. For all Olive knew he was busy. Perhaps there had been a family emergency. 

Perhaps…there were a lot of those.

And yet, Olive couldn't help but feel agitated. If he knew he wouldn't be arriving at The Pie Hole on that day, the tomorrow after their dinner, why wouldn't he have told her? Especially when he had see her merely hours before.

Why, why, why, why, why?

"Could you tell me what the pie of the day is?" Fake-Alfredo number thirty-one asked.

"Why?" Olive asked, before she could realize what she was saying.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry?"

"You said 'Why' after I asked you about the pie of the day."

Olive blushed. "Triple Berry Fudge," Olive replied, pointing behind her at the sign. "It's new."

"I'll try it," the customer said, handing back is menu.

Olive nodded and walked away. 

Why…was she losing her mind? 

* * *

�

Emerson Cod, private eye, having decided that he had had enough pie to last him for a while, felt like ice cream would be particularly enticing on this particularly cold day. The irony of that fact seemed to be lost on him, or he just didn't care.

He waved Olive down and pointed to the ice cream bar. Olive nodded and trudged over, mumbling incoherent thoughts that Emerson couldn't decipher, nor did he care if he did.

"Mint Chocolate," Emerson said, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, yeah," Olive waved her hand distractedly and turned her back, scooping the ice cream and placing it in a cup; her mind miles away and working at miles an hour.

"Here," she said, turning back around and approaching the counter. She seemed to be thinking something over in her head, but Emerson didn't care. Slowly, far to slow for an impatient Emerson, Olive placed the counter. However, instead of letting for of the glass, she kept her hand wrapped around it, staring at the cold treat.

Emerson was about to comment about how she needed to let go of his ice cream before he pried her hands from it when Olive spoke:

"Am I a bad person?"

"No," Emerson replied, the very tone of his voice hinting that he didn't care. He kept his eyes trained on his ice cream.

"I mean, because, you come in here all the time, right?" Olive asked, taking a step back, taking Emerson's ice cream with her.

"Yes," Emerson said, through gritted teeth.

"So hypothetically speaking if you and I were to go to dinner one night, you would tell me if you weren't going to come here today, right." Olive asked, motioning with her hands. Emerson reached forward, about to grab the ice cream, when Olive's hand moved and it was out of his each. 

Being that the private detective was a foot taller than the waitress made the scene quite ironic, though the irony of it was once again lost on Emerson Cod. He just wanted his ice cream.

"Especially," Olive continued on, "If the dinner had been really good and we both enjoyed ourselves, right?"

"Wrong," Emerson said, "Because you and I wouldn't have gone to dinner in the first place."

"Hypothetically speaking," Olive replied.

"Hypothetically speaking we wouldn't have gone to dinner in the first place," Emerson said through gritted teeth. Olive scowled. "Would you just give me the damn ice cream?"

"What?" Olive asked. Emerson's eyes narrowed and he pointed to the glass in her hand. Olive followed his gaze and looked at the glass as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh yeah, here," she said, before placing it on the counter.

Emerson grabbed it before Olive could do anything else. "You're crazy," he said, before spooning some of the treat into his mouth. Olive gave a quiet 'humph' and walked away.

* * *

�

By four o'clock Olive had seen a total of forty-three Fake Alfredo's.

"All the customers leave?" Chuck asked, walking out of the kitchen then sitting at the counter. 

Olive looked up from the sugar containers she had been refilling and surveyed the room. "For now," she replied with a lopsided smile.

"At least we can take a break before the dinner rush," Ned replied, placing a cup of water on the counter for Chuck and taking a sip of his own cup. 

"None for me thanks," Olive replied, dryly.

Ned smiled sheepishly, "I'll be right back," he said walking back to the kitchen.

"And it's a dessert rush!" Chuck called after him, making Olive giggle.

"Give me a piece of Rhubarb," Emerson said, walking up and sitting two seats away from Chuck.

"You could say, 'Please' you know," Olive said, before turning her back, grabbing the rhubarb pie of the pie rack and slicing a piece.

"Or you could just give me my pie," Emerson said, as Olive placed the plate on the counter. He grabbed it before a repeat of the ice cream incident happened again.

"You're in a bad mood," Chuck said.

"He's always in a bad mood," Olive replied, walking back so she was once again standing in front of Chuck.

"And I'm sitting right here," replied Emerson. "So keep the talk about me to a minimum."

"Here you go," Ned said before anyone else could talk, walking out of the kitchen. He handed Olive a glass of water.

Olive's eyes widened in surprise, not having expected the Pie Maker to actually get her a glass of water. "Thank you," she said.

Ned smiled shyly again and Olive and Chuck, before picking up his water and walking over to Emerson.

Upon making sure that Emerson and The Pie Maker were in a conversation of their own, Chuck leaned across the counter and spoke to Olive in a whisper. "So have you gone to dinner with Alfredo yet?"

Olive's eyes widened and she blushed, "Yes," she murmured.

"You did?" Chuck asked, surprised.

"Well, yes…?"

"And you didn't tell me!" Chuck exclaimed quietly, with mock offense.

"Chuck I had dinner with Alfredo last night," Olive replied dryly.

Chuck laughed. "So how was it?"

"It was---good," Olive said, her voice trailing.

"Was it?"

"Of course it was!" Olive replied, indignantly. 

"Olive?" Chuck asked, after Olive had gone quiet.

Olive looked down at her hands, "He hasn't come in yet, today," she whispered.

"Is that a problem?" Chuck cautiously asked.

"Of course it is," Olive said looking up. "It's like saying you'll call but then you never call."

"Did he say he was going to come here today?"

Olive blushed and looked down again. "Well, no," she said quietly. "But he's been here all week. And then the day after we have dinner, he's not," Olive quickly defended. Indeed, she was beginning to fear for her own sanity. "Seems a little suspicious, don't you think?"

Chuck smiled a wide bright smile a knowing look forming in her eyes.

"What?" Olive asked.

Chuck's smile widened. "Nothing," she said with wave of the hand, taking a long drink of her water.

Olive narrowed her eyes at the look Chuck was giving her. It was far too innocent. Chuck shrugged and continued to drink her water, emptying the entire glass of its contents. Before Olive could say anything else, the door opened and the bell chimed. Instinctively, Olive and Chuck both turned to see who walked in. 

It was Alfredo number forty-four. The man smiled and waved, walking towards the counter. Olive groaned, shaking her head, having decided she was no longer going to fall for the tricks her mind was playing on her.

Chuck gave her a confused look as Fake-Alfredo Number Forty-Four placed his pharmecuetical box on the counter and sat down.

"Well that's not exactly the reaction I was hoping for after a first date," the man said.

Olive's head snapped up. "Fredo?"

The man looked confused, he glanced at Chuck—who shrugged--then turned back to Olive. "Yes," he replied, slowly.

Olive's eyes widened; faster than lightening she darted around the counter and up to the traveling salesmen. She looked at Alfredo steadily, making Alfredo shrink back in confusion. Olive glance to the counter where a rag sat, grabbed it then hit Alfredo's shoulder.

Since the hit did not hurt Alfredo Aldarisio in the slightest of ways he simply stared at Olive.

"Olive, did you just hit a customer?" Ned asked. Olive, Chuck, and Alfredo turned to see that Olive's actions had earned them all the attention of the Pie Maker and Emerson Cod.

"He's not just any customer, is he?" Olive asked, heatedly, crossing her arms.

"Olive, are you alright?" Alfredo asked.

"Where have you been?" Olive demanded, ignoring Alfredo's question.

Alfredo looked at Chuck, quizzically, who was doing her best to keep her smile at bay. She shrugged again. "Working," the traveling salesman explained, turning back to Olive.

Olive's defensive stance immediately softened and she paled. "I—oh—heh," she said, for lack of anything better. "Sorry," she said, reaching out and patting Alfredo's shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Alfredo asked, leaning forward, locking eyes with Olive.

"Mhm," Olive replied, trying to keep her blush at bay.

"She's finally gone off her rocker," Emerson said, his way of an explanation.

"Oh shut up," Olive retorted. Alfredo smiled and turned, blocking Olive from Emerson's view and vice versa. Olive smiled appreciatively.

"I can't really stay," Alfredo said, "But I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tomorrow night?"

Olive nodded, "That would be nice," she said, blushing when she realized that Ned, Chuck, and Emerson were all watching and listening in on their conversation.

"Same place?" Alfredo asked, standing back up.

"Seven o'clock," Olive replied, fighting to keep her smile from widening.

"I'll see you then," Alfredo said with a smile. There was a slight beat in the air, before Alfredo bent forward and placed a light kiss on Olive's cheek; making the blonde blush and bight her lip to keep from smiling.

Chuck giggled.

"Bye, Fredo," Olive said.

"Bye."

"Hold on a second," Emerson spoke, holing up his hand and making everyone look at him.

"What?" Ned asked, confused as he tried not to stare at Alfredo and Olive.

"You're name is Fredo?" Emerson asked.

"Alfredo," The traveling salesman corrected.

"But she just called you Fredo."

"So what if I did?" Olive asked, turning her back to the private detective and facing Alfredo. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

Alfredo smiled. "Good bye." With a nod to everyone else, Alfredo Aldarisio walked from The Pie Hole.

"Bye," Olive called after him, watching until the door swung shut and Alfredo disappeared from sight.

As soon as Olive turned back around, Emerson broke out in loud bouts of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Olive asked.

Emerson continued to laugh. Chuck looked beyond amused and rolled her eyes. Ned shrugged and took a drink of water.

"What!" Olive demanded, placing her hand on her hips and tapping her foot.

"'Fredo' is going to dinner with…" Emerson paused and chuckled some more. "Frodo."

Ned chocked on his water and began to hit his chest to make sure he didn't completely choke. Chuck bit her lip to keep from laughing as she averted her gaze from Olive's. Emerson continued to laugh. All three earning themselves a glare from a very red Olive Snook. 

Olive marched into the kitchen, with as much dignity as she could muster in her flushed state, muttering something about how she was a woman, not a man; which further meant that she was not a gay hobbit;�the latter comment made�The Pie Maker choke once more.

* * *

**Author's Note**: There you have it!� Chapter Six!� I hope you liked it!

Thanks to all who've reviewed!� Really appreciate it!

I�don't know when I'll be updating again..school stars up tomorrow...so we'll have to see.

Until next time,  
Kate�


	7. Chapter Seven: Dempsa's Reason

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
-****C****hapter Seven: Dempsa's Reason**

"Here's a garden salad for you, Alfredo," Dempsa said, placing a large salad in front of the traveling salesman.

"Thank you, Dempsa," Alfredo replied with a grateful smile.

"And a Mac & McCheese, for O-live," Dempsa said, her voice clipping on the second syllable as she placed a bowl of the dish in front of Olive.

"Thank you," Olive said, "It looks delicious."

"Mhm," Dempsa said in agreement and thanks, giving Olive her leveled gaze. Olive narrowed her eyes and stared back. "You two enjoy, let me know if you need anything else." With another pointed gaze at Olive and a smile for Alfredo, Dempsa walked away.

Olive Snook's eyes followed Dempsa as she walked away, until the woman turned a corner and was out of sight. Olive looked back to Alfredo and leaned forward, taking care not to let her necklace hit her macaroni and cheese. "She doesn't like me," Olive whispered, conspiratorially.

Alfredo Aldarisio paused, a fork-full of salad resting midair in front of his open mouth. "What?" He asked, lowering his fork and leaning forward.

"Dempsa," Olive explained. "She doesn't like me."

Alfredo's brow rose and he leaned back in his seat. "Don't be ridiculous, of course she likes you."

"No she doesn't!" Olive exclaimed quietly. "She's always giving me 'the eye'," Olive finished, using air quotes.

Alfredo smiled slightly, "'The eye'?"

"Yes, you know--." Olive did a perfect imitation of the look Dempsa had apparently been reserving for her and her alone.

Chuckling Alfredo rolled his eyes. "You're delusional."

"I am not!" Olive replied, trying to seem more convincing by bracing her hands on the table.

"Paranoid?" Alfredo tried.

Olive rolled her eyes and leaned back, crossing her arms. "No," she defended.

"Then what are you?"

"High strung—maybe--, neurotic—definitely—but not paranoid," Olive said, as if she were talking about the weather.

Alfredo laughed and shook his head. "Just eat your macaroni and cheese."

Olive looked down, as if noticing the bowl in front of her for the first time. Upon seeing the cheesy-goodness that sat in front of her Olive's eyes lit up in anticipation and her mind quickly cleared of all thought except for the dinner that sat before her. She quickly picked up her forked, pierced a healthy amount, and stuck it in her mouth.

Alfredo watched on as Olive greedily chewed her food, a look of amusement and adoration mixed on his face.

"What?" Olive asked, after she swallowed.

"You just looked like a five-year-old who got her favorite treat."

Olive hiccupped before blushing. "I like macaroni and cheese," she said, spearing another forkful and taking a bite. Alfredo smiled and shook his head before picking up his fork and taking the bite that he had yet been able to take.

Silence engulfed the two as they began to eat their delicious dinners from Dempsa's Dining Diner.

After taking two more bites a thought suddenly sprung upon Olive. She looked across the table at the traveling salesman who sat with her. "You did that on purpose."

"What?" Alfredo asked.

"You did that on purpose," Olive reiterated.

"What did I do on purpose?"

"You used some weird conversation ploy to change the subject," Olive accused, pointing her fork at the man across from her.

"I did no such thing," Alfredo replied, though the mirth in his eyes suggested otherwise.

"Yes you did. Because you don't want to explain why Dempsa doesn't like me," Olive rebuffed, triumphantly.

Alfredo sighed and shook his head, again. Without a word he reached across the table, took Olive's fork from her, scooped an absurdly large amount of macaroni and cheese, and stuck it in Olive's mouth.

Olive scowled as she chewed the food fed to her; though she couldn't hide the blush that crept across her features at the gesture, even if it had been done if only to shut her up.

* * *

Olive Snook awkwardly put on her coat. The left sleeve was half way turned into itself and she was practically punching the garment to get her arm through. She successfully pulled her coat snuggly around her body just as Alfredo Aldarisio finished paying their bill for dinner.

"You two enjoy yourselves?" Dempsa asked, as the register shut with a ding. The question was directed towards Alfredo, but her eyes were trained on Olive once again. The blonde waitress shifted uncomfortably at the gaze and pulled her coat closer to her body.

"Of course," Alfredo replied with a smile, looking at Olive. Olive smiled warmly in return, though she did not remove her eyes from Dempsa. Olive wondered if Alfredo really couldn't see the contempt Dempsa was channeling towards her. Or she wondered if, perhaps, Dempsa had a freak-special gift of being able to direct two types of emotion at two different people at the same time. "And dinner was delicious as always," Alfredo finished.

Dempsa smiled, warmly and turned her full attention to the traveling salesman. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves. Have a good night, you two." And without so much an acknowledgement in Olive's direction, Dempsa walked down the counter and began to pick up plates left by other customer's.

Olive's jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed once more at the treatment she was receiving from the diner owner.

"Olive?" Alfredo asked, waving his hand in front of Olive's face. Olive closed her jaw and looked towards the man. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied, calmly. "Are you ready to go?"

Alfredo Aldarisio shifted. "Actually, would you mind waiting while I go to--," at this, Alfredo stopped talking and pointed behind him to the 'Restroom' sign that hung above an entry way.

"Of course," Olive said, smiling warmly at the discomfort Alfredo was emitting.

Alfredo smiled, embarrassed. "I'll be right back," he said, before walking away.

Knowing that she would most likely not be presented with another opportunity of convenience, such as this one, Olive waited until Alfredo was completely out of view before walking determinedly over to where Dempsa stood. Olive braced her hands on the counter and faced the other woman, standing at her full height (even though she only came up to Dempsa's chin).

"Why don't you like me?" Olive asked with no preamble, making Dempsa freeze in her cleaning motions. To tell the truth, Olive was surprised that she had found enough confidence to confront Dempsa is such a way; she had never been able to do such a thing before. However, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and, Olive supposed that had she been a cat she would most likely be dead.

"Excuse me?" Dempsa asked, turning her back and placing the plates in a bin behind her. She turned back towards Olive, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Why don't you like me?"

"What gave you the idea that I don't like you?" Dempsa asked, smiling, though the sentiment she was expressing didn't seem sincere.

"Maybe from the fact that I've only known you for two days, but the entire time you've been giving me the You're-lucky-we're-not-alone-or-I'd-bite-your-head-off-look the entire time."

At this Dempsa laughed, a quiet, bright, yet sincere laugh. "You're wrong, you know," she said, after a while.

"Oh?"

"We've known each other for three days, you've only so graciously graced me with you presence for two."

"Mere semantics, graciously graced is redundant, and you haven't answered my question," Olive retorted dryly.

Dempsa snorted and Olive narrowed her gaze, daring the other woman to speak of any other thing beside the answer to her question. Dempsa finally relented, putting her towel down with a sigh, before stepping forward and resting against the counter; it was now the only matter that separated the two women.

"You're more observant than I've given you credit for," she said.

"Are you putting me through some test?" Olive asked.

Dempsa smiled but shook her head. "Look Olive. I've known Alfredo for a few years now and I've grown quite a fondness for him." Olive's brow rose. "Not that kind of fondness," Dempsa said quickly. "I'm old enough to be both of your mothers. But that's beside the point.

And the point was this: As a young and beginner traveling salesman Alfredo Aldarisio had been unable to catch a break. Denial after denial for his homeopathic drugs had dug him into a hole of depression. And then one day, while browsing a different part of the city, Alfredo had come across Dempsa's Dining Diner, where he had immediately met the kind owner Dempsa. Having seen a kindred spirit in Alfredo and knowing what it was like to face rejection in the beginnings of starting a business, Dempsa had helped the young man. She sent him to an apartment complex where most of her family resided and called her mother to tell her to buy as many of the mood relaxants as she and the rest of the family could. If only to boost Alfredo's confidence, but the scheme had worked flawlessly and not a week later Alfredo was a successful traveling salesman. And though Alfredo never knew what Dempsa had done, so began their friendship.

"I suppose you could say I'm a bit over protective of the boy," Dempsa said.

Olive smiled and nodded, "Maybe a little, but I'm assuming that it's not without good reason."

Dempsa laughed and nodded. "I've seen him in relationships before Olive. Fleeting ones, but relationships nonetheless. And when he began to talk about you, there was something in his voice that made me cautious. The pure adoration, almost devotion--,"

Olive blushed and lowered her head, tapping her finger on the counter.

"And, I'm sorry, but the way he had been describing you. Your—how you reacted to things he said, well it didn't exactly paint the best picture."

"I was slightly distant when we first met," Olive agreed, nodding her head.

"But not without good reason, I suppose," Dempsa replied. Olive smiled and lifted her head, nodding once more. Suddenly Dempsa's eyes narrowed once more, though this time in a seriousness Olive had never seen a person possess. "I don't want him to be hurt, Olive."

"I don't want to hurt him, Dempsa. And I won't."

Dempsa smiled and patted Olive's hand. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, I should have given you a chance."

Olive shook her head. "You had to do what you had to do and I'm glad you did it. It's nice to know Alfredo has people like you looking out for him."

Dempsa smiled and was about to reply when the man they had been discussing approached him. "Ready?" Alfredo asked, placing his hand on Olive's lower back.

Olive felt warmth run through her, centering around Alfredo's soft touch. "Yes," she said, smiling.

"Have a good night, you two," Dempsa replied, this time giving both Olive and Alfredo her warm smile.

"Goodnight, Dempsa," The couple replied, as Alfredo offered his arm. The petite woman took it and the two walked towards the door.

"And Olive," Dempsa called, making the duo stop in the doorway. They turned. "Thank you, for beginning to prove me wrong."

Olive smiled and did not question the use of the word "beginning". It would take more than two days for Olive to prove that she wasn't going to do anything to deliberately wrong Alfredo in any way. She smiled and nodded.

"What was that about?" Alfredo asked, as they walked out the door.

"Girl-business bonding," Olive replied with a smile.

Alfredo smiled. "Once again, I had a good time tonight Olive."

"Me too, Fredo. Though I wish you would have let me pay, it's only fair since you did last time."

Alfredo shook his head and pulled his arm, and Olive, closer so that the two were almost molded together. "Call it the gentleman in me, but would hate to let you pay."

Olive sighed, overdramatically, as a twinkle worked its way into her eye. "Maybe next time we can go Dutch?" She tried, as they stopped at her car.

"_Next time_," Alfredo replied, then paused. "I'll have to think about it."

"Don't hurt yourself in the process."

"You're words, they wound me."

Olive laughed and shook her head. "Are you going to come to The Pie Hole, tomorrow?" she asked, preparing herself before she suffered from another attack of the neurotic mess that was her mind.

"Are you going to hit me again if I do?" Alfredo asked.

"Just for making that comment, yes."

"I'll be able to stop by in the morning for coffee, but then I'll have to leave."

Olive smiled and nodded. "I'll see you then, goodnight."

"Goodnight," Alfredo said, shifting awkwardly.

And so they stood again, awkwardly, facing one another, neither quite knowing what to do. Olive fiddled her fingers and looked to the ground, nerves wracking her body for some reason. She wondered if they should be past this. After all they had already gotten the awkward first date out of the way. Suddenly a comforting hand was placed on her cheek, forcing her to look up.

She was met with the sight of a smiling Alfredo, who leaned forward and placed an equally comforting and lingering kiss upon her lips. She smiled as Alfredo pulled away. "Goodnight, Olive," Alfredo whispered, his breath tickling her rosy lips.

"Goodnight, Fredo."

* * *

"So—uh—when would you like to go out again?" Alfredo asked the next day, shrugging into his coat.

Olive looked up from the sugar container she had been filling. "I'm free anytime this week," she said, instantly hating the words that came out. She hoped she didn't sound desperate.

Alfredo paused and thought for a moment, before nodding and picking up his work case. Quickly, he leaned across the counter and placed a light kiss on Olive's cheek, before turning and walking towards the door.

"Hey!" Olive yelled as she blushed a deep crimson. "Aren't you going to tell me when?"

Alfredo turned and smirked. "You'll see," he replied, before walking out the door. The bell rang in his wake.

Olive's jaw dropped and she humphed indignantly to know one.

"Um, Olive?"

Olive turned to see the Pie Maker standing in the door way to the kitchen. He pointed to Olive's hands. She turned to see that as she had been talking Alfredo she had yet to actually put down the sugar dispensers and now sugar was dangerously close to spilling all over the counter. She jumped and quickly set the dispenser and refilling pitcher down.

"Thanks," she said, blushing as she realized that there was a good opportunity Ned had seen her brief interaction with the traveling salesman. Ned coughed, the only indication that Olive needed to know that he indeed had.

"So, um…you and that customer, huh?" The Pie Maker asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing beyond misery.

"Um, yeah," Olive replied awkwardly.

Ned took a step forward so that the two were now standing next to one another. "What's his name again? Fredo?" The fact that the Pie Maker was trying to make casual conversation made the uncomfortable atmosphere rise.

"Alfredo," Olive quickly responded. "Aldarisio."

The Pie Maker nodded as the two lapsed into a tense silence.

"This is still awkward," Ned finally said.

"But—um, not as awkward as last time…?" Olive offered.

"But still awkward," The Pie Maker replied.

"Right…"

Silence one more.

"So I'm just going to go talk to Chuck," Olive said.

The Pie Maker nodded. "We have issues," he said, making Olive pause.

"Many," Olive replied.

"We probably need help."

"See you in therapy," Olive said over her shoulder, as she quickly made way for the kitchen.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I am SO sorry I didn't get this up sooner! But school has been crazy….but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless.

Once more, Thank You! to all who have reviewed. It really means a lot and is greatly appreciated.

I don't know when I'll be updating again, but it probably won't be until after finals are done, which is the first week of May.

Until then!  
Kate


	8. Eight: The Darling Mermaid Darlings

**

* * *

**

Disclaimer:

I don't own Pushing Daisies…le sigh…

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long to get up! Enjoy!

* * *

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Eight: The Darling Mermaid Darlings**

Charlotte Charles sighed as she squeezed the last drop of the herbal mood-enhancer into the current pie she was baking for her aunts Lily and Vivian. She put the top back on the small vile and grabbed a paper towel; wrapping up the container, she threw it into the trash, watching it drop to the bottom of the receptacle. With a nod she turned back to the table and placed the top crust upon the pear pie she had made. Smiling, nostalgically, she grated some gruyere on top, taking in a deep whiff as the scents of a sweet fruit and a cheese mixed.

Carefully she placed the pie into the oven and shut the door. She clapped her hands to rid them of flour and walked into the dining area. Ned and Emerson were engrossed in conversation in their usual booth. Olive was occupied in the far corner of the room talking to and elderly couple. And Alfredo Chuck-Didn't-Know-His-Last-Name was sitting in his usual booth, sipping on a macchiato. Surreptitiously, as to not attract any attention to herself, Chuck walked towards Alfredo and slipped into the booth seat opposite him.

"Hello," she said quietly, keeping low.

"Hi," Alfredo replied in a whisper, looking amused.

"I was wondering if I could buy another vile of your mood enhancers," Chuck explained.

Alfredo smiled and nodded, quickly pulling his box of enhancers onto the table and opening it. "Here you go," Alfredo said, passing Chuck a new vile. "But didn't I just sell you the first one?" He asked, accepting a twenty dollar bill from Chuck.

The woman shrugged. "A few months ago. But it didn't last me as long as I thought it would."

Alfredo nodded and opened his case once more, handing Chuck another vile. "Free of charge."

"I thought you said you couldn't just give these to me, it's a controlled substance," Chuck whispered, confused.

Alfredo shrugged. "I'm feeling generous," he explained making Chuck cast a quick glance at Olive. Alfredo pretended not to notice and took a sip of his drink. "But may I ask, why are we whispering?"

Chuck smirked and shrugged. "I think the real question is: why shouldn't we whisper?"

"Um…I don't know, why?"

"To save our vocal chords?" Chuck offered.

"I thought whispering did more damage than good."

Chuck shrugged and the two lapsed into an awkward silence.

"Can you answer me something?" Alfredo suddenly asked.

"What is it?" Chuck asked, her brow knitting together.

Alfredo shifted uncomfortably, "I was wondering if Olive ever has days off during the week," he said, his voice softer than a whisper.

Chuck smiled brightly and nodded, "I believe her next day off is a week from today, actually."

Alfredo paused for a moment and nodded.

"Why?" Chuck asked, leaning forward.

The salesman shrugged. "Just wondering," he said, downing the rest of his drink.

Chuck laughed quietly. "Sure," she said, sliding out of the booth and standing. "Thanks for this," she said, wiggling the vile before walking back into the kitchen, their entire encounter going unnoticed by the rest of the occupants of The Pie Hole.

* * *

"Have dinner with me tonight?"

Olive Snook looked up from the sugar dispenser she had been filling into the eyes of one Alfredo Aldarisio. She smiled. "I wish I could, but I can't," she said apologetically. "I'm meeting some friends later on tonight."

"Oh," Alfredo responded, leaning forward on the counter that separated him and the waitress. "Well maybe some other time then."  
Olive nodded and smiled brightly. "Most definitely," she said, laying her hand atop Alfredo's arm. "Tomorrow?"

Alfredo shook his head. "I'm busy with work the next couple of days, that's why I was hoping we could go tonight. You won't see too much of me for a while."

Olive's face fell. The words_: I could always cancel my plans_, hovered on her lips and yet she couldn't bring herself to say them. She hadn't seen said friends in quite a while. And somehow, she knew, Alfredo wouldn't allow her to anyway. "When are you free?" She opted to saying, tilting her head to the side.

"Friday at the earliest," The traveling salesman responded. "Would that be good?"

"Perfect," Olive replied with a smile. She squeezed Alfredo's arm.

Alfredo leant across the counter and placed a light kiss on Olive's cheek, lingering close to the corner of her mouth. "I'll see you soon," he said, before picking up his things.

Olive nodded. "Bye," she replied, as she watched Alfredo leave The Pie Hole, her cheek tingling where his lips had been. The blonde waitress finished refilling the sugar dispensers and cleaned up the small mess she had made. With a jump in her step she walked into the kitchen.

Chuck stood at the counter, rolling out dough. "Hi Olive," she said, noticing the waitress's entrance.

"Hiya," Olive replied. With a quick glance out the room, Olive made sure the two were alone, before moving further into the kitchen. "I'm going to your Aunts'. Did you make a pie?"

"Yeah, here," Chuck said, walking to the cooler and pulling out her specially made mood enhanced pie.

"Thanks, have you seen Digby I wanted to take him with," Olive said grabbing her coat. "I think he likes visiting your Aunts."

Chuck smiled sadly. "I think he was out sitting by Ned and Emerson."

Olive stared at the sad expression on Chuck's face, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She always enjoyed visiting Aunts Lily and Vivian and she often forgot what it must be like for Chuck. After all, they both knew, pie only went so far. The two shifted awkwardly, still in an uncomfortable stage of their friendship, though they had made considerable progress.

"Well, I'll just go," Olive said quietly, grabbing Digby's lead.

Chuck nodded. "Bye," she said quietly as Olive left the room in a calm hurry.

"Come here Digby," Olive stated, walking into the dining area. "I'm taking Digby with me," she said to the questioning look Ned gave her.

"Then take him," Emerson replied dryly.

"I wasn't talking to you," Olive replied in the same tone.

"You're leaving?" Ned asked.

"Um—yes…?"

"Why?"

"Er—Pie delivery," Olive replied, awkwardly holding up the pie she held.

"Again?"

"You know, you sure do ask a lot of questions," Olive said, deftly changing the subject. Quickly, she clipped Digby's lead. "I'll see you later. Come one Digby." With a pull on the lead and a nod Olive Snook and Digby left The Pie Hole.

"She's right, you know," Emerson said after a beat, opening his ever present newspaper.

"What?"

"You ask a hell of a lot of questions."

* * *

Olive Snook knocked on the door, making sure she had a tight grip on Digby's leash as she lowered her hand. She hummed as she waited, moving her arm as the pie box she held began to get heavy. Not a minute later there was a quiet movement behind the door before it opened.

"Oh Olive, what a nice surprise," Aunt Vivian said, opening the door wider when she saw who it was. Digby entered the house without preamble; skillfully pulling his lead free from Olive's grip.

"Hiya," Olive replied with a bright smile.

"Come in, come in," Vivian said, stepping aside to allow Olive in.

"I--uh—brought pie," Olive said as she stepped inside, surprised that she wasn't immediately engulfed in conversation by the usually talkative woman.

"Of course, you now how we appreciate it," Aunt Vivian replied absentmindedly as they walked into the sitting room.

"It's about damn time." was the expression they were met with as they entered the room. Aunt Lily stood from her spot on the couch and walked to Olive. "I've been craving this pie all week." Without another word, she took the pie from Olive and walked back to the couch.

"Hello to you too," Olive replied dryly as she and Aunt Vivian sat down. Digby walked to Olive, laying at her feet.

Aunt Lily mumbled something incoherent through a mouthful of pie.

Olive looked back and forth between Chuck's two aunts; one greedily devouring a pie while the other looked more dejected than Olive could ever remember seeing either of them.

"Is…everything alright?" she asked cautiously.

"Is anything ever alright?" Came Lily's reply before she took another large bite of pie.

"Um, no?" Olive tried, trying not to scrunch her nose. The three women lapsed into silence. Digby rose and sat by Olive, eyeing the Aunts warily.

"We have to cancel our comeback…again," Aunt Vivian finally said sadly.

"What?!" Olive exclaimed before she could stop herself, her mind beginning to race.

"Lovely, now I'm blind in an eye and deaf in an ear," Aunt Lily said.

Olive blushed. "Sorry, b-but why?"

"It's our arena," Aunt Vivian explained. Digby walked over to the woman and rested his head on her lap. "It's been all worn and tattered over the years of not being used. But the cleaning crew won't fix it up because we've already cancelled once before."

"They don't want to waste their time if we cancel again," Aunt Lily interjected. "Lazy bast--."

"So you're just going to give up?" Olive asked before the explicative could leave Lily's lips.

"We have to," Aunt Vivian replied.

"You could find another arena!" Olive said, jumping to her feet.

"Don't you think we tried that?" Aunt Lily said showing any emotion in regards for their swimming for the first time.

Olive shrugged sheepishly.

"They won't take us either," Aunt Vivian spoke, "All afraid we'll cancel again."

"You can't just stop trying," Olive offered desperately, acutely aware of what this new infringement could cost to what she and, especially, Chuck had been building.

"I need a drink," Lily said, as both aunts ignored Olive's last comment.

"You've already had four today," Vivian cautioned.

"Then I'd better make it an uneven five."

* * *

Olive Snook knocked on the door, dropping Digby's lead as the dog sat obediently. She tapped her foot impatiently, willing the door to open with her mind. _Open, open, open_. There was a quiet movement behind the door before it opened, revealing Chuck.

"Hey," she said, opening the door wider as Digby walked into the apartment.

"Just bringing Digby back," Olive said rather loudly. "Is Ned home?" she asked quietly.

"No," Chuck said, her brow furrowing. "Why?"

"We need to talk," Olive replied, pushing Chuck into the apartment and closing the door behind her.

"About what?" Chuck asked, leading the way to the couch were the two sat.

"Your Aunts." Olive's voice was grave.

Chuck immediately tensed. "What? Why? Are they alright? Is everything—."

Olive held up her hand for silence. "They're not dying, so you can kill that thought train before it takes off."

Chuck let out a slow, shaky breath as relief flushed through her body. "Are the--," she paused. "Do trains take off?"

Olive took a breath ready to answer any question Chuck had about her Aunts when Chuck's actual question registered. "I—Depart? Depart. Heh, guess not." The two giggled.

"So, now that we've established my aunts aren't dying--," Chuck said after a moment. "They are okay, right?"

"Well," Olive started slowly. "That depends on your definition of 'alright'."

"Oh?" Chuck's brow rose once more.

"It's their swimming."

"Are they canceling again?"

Olive nodded sadly.

"What?!"

Olive winced when Chuck's voice hit an octave she didn't know it could register.

"They have to this time."

"Why?"

"It's the maintenance at their pool. They won't clean up and make the place look better because they think your Aunts will cancel again. They don't want to waste their time."

"But what if they don't cancel?" Chuck asked rhetorically.

"The maintenance doesn't want to waste their time."

Chuck huffed and stood, beginning to pace. "It's not fair! They were finally going to get back in the water. And now this!"

"I know," Olive said, equally at a loss of what to do.

"There has to be something we can do," Chuck said as she furiously paced back and forth.

"Like what?" Olive asked, unceremoniously relaxing into the couch.

"I don't know--," Chuck continued her pacing, threatening to wear the carpet. "Just—something."

And suddenly in a turn of cosmic events Olive Snook and Charlotte Charles froze, the same thought running through their minds. Slowly the two turned towards one another, looks of realization lighting their faces.

"Are you thinking, what I'm thinking?" Chuck asked slowly.

"Why Chuck," Olive said, standing. "I do believe I am."

They smirked.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well there you have it. What will they do?! Bwahaha…

As always, thank you all for reading and reviewing. I truly appreciate it.

So this semester is finally over with…so hopefully I'll be able to update more. But I start summer school in about a month. So we shall see!

Until next time!  
Kate


	9. Chapter Nine: The Return of: The Pie Hos

Disclaimer: I don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…

**Author's Note: **Because I had to…I really did.

cues spy-like "Pie-ho" music

* * *

**Let Me Fall-  
-****Chapter Nine: The Return of…The Pie Hos**

Olive Snook often imagined she was a spy. A sultry woman dressed in an equally sultry dress sent to seduce top ranking men from around the world, only to take the information she needed and leave them in a daze of confusion. While being dressed in all black, wearing a caddy hat and goggles, and breaking into a shabby pool arena was far from her dreams; the anxiety ridden, nerve wracking feeling it gave her was still satisfying.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Chuck's voice whispered into her ear, making Olive jump as the sound of a car could be heard coming up the road.

Olive grabbed Chuck's arm and pulled her behind a bush, just as head lights peered around the corner. "You thought of it."

"Technically, we thought of it at the same time," Chuck corrected as they righted themselves.

"Still, if you think it's a bad idea why think of it in the first place?" Olive countered, as she pressed her back against the chain-link fence, which surrounded the pool, and began to sidle down it; Chuck following in suit.

"Well I was just thinking about the last time we did this," Chuck said, grabbing hold of Olive's arm to make her stop. "Here's a good of spot as any." She motioned with her head to the large oak tree blocking their view from the street.

"It was your idea that time too," Olive whispered harshly, yanking her arm from Chuck's grasp and facing the other woman.

"Olive…I'm just—don't you have a feeling that something bad is going to happen?"

"Well, the last time we did this it was for a 'bad' reason. This time it's for a good one," Olive reasoned, "So I think we're fine. Don't you want to help your aunts?"

"Of course!" Chuck said, louder than she intended.

"So why worry?"

"I'm just being, you know, cautious…I guess."

Olive stared at her companion blankly, "You're spending way too much time with Ned."

Chuck opened her mouth to reply before an indescribable look crossed her face and she stopped. Olive raised her brow. Chuck shook her head. "So how are we going to do this?" She asked, instead, taking off the backpack she wore.

"I'd figured we would each just climb over."

"I don't know about you, Olive, but I don't want to hop a fence with cans of paint and supplies in a backpack. The bags are heavy enough as is."

Olive sighed. "Fine, you go over first and I'll hand you the bags," she said, taking her backpack off as well, feeling a sense of relief as the heavy weight left her frame. "And then I'll climb over."

Chuck nodded. "Okay," she said, rubbing her hands together as she faced the fence. "Here I go." Grabbing a hold of the fencing above her head, Chuck hoisted herself up, carefully climbing up the old fence. As she reached the top, the fence swayed dangerously and Olive lunged forward to try to steady it. With a deep breath Chuck turned, climbed down a little bit and then jumped; landing heavily on her feet.

Without a word, Olive grabbed Chuck's bag and awkwardly lifted it above her head towards the top of the fence. "Maybe we should have thought this out better," she said, through gritted teeth as the weight of the bag began to come down upon her. On the other side of the fence Chuck jumped, trying desperately to reach the bag.

"Hold on," Chuck said, grabbing hold of the fence and hoisting herself into the air. In a quick motion, she grabbed the strap of the backpack and pulled; dragging it over the top of the fence. Olive pushed, stretching up onto her toes, before the bag finally fell to the other side of the fence, pulling Chuck with it.

"You okay?" Olive whispered.

Chuck nodded. "Pass the other one over."

After a similar, though slightly less clumsy, maneuvering both bags were safely resting on the inside of the chain link fence.

"Come on," Chuck whispered to Olive as another car drove by, making them jump.

In a quick motion Olive jumped up the fence, grabbing hold and pulling herself up. Skillfully, in true spy-like ability, she climbed the fence, switching gracefully at the top before beginning to climb down. Her swift movements were halted when she felt an unusual tug of her foot, making her stop mid-descend.

"What is it?" Chuck asked, upon noticing Olive's sudden stop.

"My foot," Olive replied, kicking her right foot into the fence. "It's stuck."

"Stuck on what?"

"I don't know, it's just stuck!" Olive replied, louder than she should have.

Chuck quickly ran to the fence and grabbed a hold of Olive's foot. "Your shoe lace got tangled in the wire," she explained, inspecting the tangled knot that had quickly become Olive's shoe lace.

"How?"

"I don't know."

"Can you untangle it?"

Without responding Chuck tried to untangle Olive's shoe lace; to no avail. "I can't get it. I know," she said, grabbing a hold of Olive's ankle. "Pull."

And Olive did. She pushed into the fence with her free leg and her arms, pulling her tangled shoe away from the fence, as Chuck pulled. With a quiet rip, Olive shoelace broke from its tangle. Olive, having not been prepared for the sudden freedom, felt herself fall backwards and away from the fence; her force of pushing and pulling causing her to fall. Chuck was pushed and stumbled out of Olive's way as she fell to the ground, landing with a loud thud and a groan.

All was quiet as Olive lay on the ground and Chuck supported herself with the fence, both panting heavily. Olive moaned and rolled onto her side, slowing pushing herself up. "Thanks for catching me," she grunted, standing on shaky legs.

"Sorry," Chuck panted. Olive waved her arm in response, still trying to catch her breath.

As both women recovered, they simultaneously stepped forward for their bags.

"You know," Chuck said, as she lifted her bag, slightly wavering under its weight. "It wasn't just my idea last time."

"Was too," Olive gasped out, picking up her own bag.

"Was not, and you know it."

"It was your idea to B&E in the first place," Olive retorted. "I merely suggested, and supplied, the rats."

"Oh don't be knit picky," Chuck responded.

Once again, Olive Snook stared at Charlotte Charles with a blank look upon her face. She shook her head and began to walk forward. "Seriously," she called over her shoulder. "_Way_ too much time with Ned."

* * *

Olive and Chuck quietly approached the swimming pool where Chuck's aunts regularly held their performances.

"Well at least we don't have to worry about cleaning up the pool itself," Olive replied, taking note of the already clean pool; where only a few leaves floated. The water shimmered under the moonlight and Olive was suddenly reminded of a moonlit beach as a cool breeze blew through the air.

"I guess they've been swimming more than we thought," Chuck replied with a crooked smile.

Olive smiled in reply and removed her backpack once more, setting it close to the pools edge. "Come on," she said, kneeling and opening the bag, "We've got work to do."

* * *

Chuck slowly stood up, feeling her back muscles tighten and hearing a pop as she righted herself. "No one is supposed to sit that long," she said, swinging one leg over a bleacher bench and walking towards their supplies, throwing the piece of sandpaper on the ground.

Olive snorted in response, wiping the sweat that was building on her forehead as she continued to take off the last of the chipped wood off the old bleachers. Once the last bit was smooth and ready for paint, she threw her sandpaper to the ground as well, sitting up straight; she groaned. "Don't get too happy, we still have to paint."

"Right," Chuck sighed. Olive walked over to Chuck and the two began to pull paint cans out of the backpacks they had been carrying.

"I can't believe we carried all of these," Olive said, shaking her head at the four cans of paint they had brought along. "Even if it was the short distance from the car." Both women turned to look at Olive's car that she had parked down the block in the shadows.

"We're stronger than we think and look," Chuck replied. Olive growled making Chuck laugh; Olive giggled. The two picked up two paint cans each; Chuck setting her paintbrush a top on of the cans lids while Olive stuck hers in her mouth.

"Maybe we should have brought back up," Chuck replied warily upon taking in the bleachers that they were about to paint. The seating suddenly looked a lot bigger than it had when it had been sanded.

Olive spit out the paintbrush, letting it fall to the ground with a flop. "Who?" She asked. "Ned and his P.I. sidekick?"

Chuck smiled. "I think Ned is more of the sidekick."

The two laughed as they began their task of painting.

* * *

"Hey Olive?" Charlotte Charles asked, as she and Olive knelt by the grass that surrounded the outskirts of the pool arena.

"Yeah?" Olive replied patting in soil around the flower she had just planted.

Chuck opened her mouth to reply and closed it, sitting back on the heels of her feet. She shook her head.

"What?" Olive asked when she heard no question from her friend.

"Never mind…" Chuck's voice trailed as she picked up another flower and sat it in the whole she had dug.

"What?" Olive urged.

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does if you were going to ask it."

"It's just—no," Chuck shook her head again. "It doesn't matter. Not really…"

"Not really? Chuck," Olive said, exasperated. "What is it?"

Charlotte Charles sighed. She looked to her friend, watching as the petite woman began to dig a new whole to place another flower in. "I was just—wondering, if--if you," Chuck's voice stammered as she wondered if she should complete her question. She took deep breath and took the plunge. "--if you still had feelings for Ned," she finished quietly.

Olive Snook's head snapped up, the small shovel she held poised in the ground; mid-dig. Of all things Chuck could have said, Olive was not expecting _that_. "I wasn't expecting that," she said, unable to say anything else.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Chuck replied quickly, busying herself with planting flowers.

"No," Olive shook her head. "It's—fine. It's fine. Don't worry. I mean, I guess it makes sense that—you would wonder."

"Well--," Chuck worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Do you?"

Olive sat on her heels, setting her shovel down. She tilted her head up towards the dark midnight sky and thought. After a moment of silence she spoke: "I don't—think I do…well maybe. I—yes?" She shook her head and looked to the ground. Chuck waited patiently as Olive quietly thought of the thoughts that needed to be thought.

"Look I—," Olive paused and gathered her thoughts once more. "I think that once someone has feelings for someone like I did for Ned, those feelings are always there. Obviously that person was special enough to a hold a place in your heart and I think that place will always exist. Maybe it's not strong, but it's still there. So, yes," she finally said, with a short nod of the head.

"Yes?"

"Yes, but I haven't thought about it in a really long time," Olive paused again and a wistful smile crossed her face. "I've been thinking about other things."

Chuck smiled a bright smile. "Other things are good."

Olive's smile widened even more. "Very good."

* * *

"What are we going to do about that?" Chuck asked, pointing to the big mural of The Darling Mermaid Darlings that stood behind the bleachers.

Olive shrugged. "Unless your Aunts want the picture to be turned into stick-figure mermaids and circles for fish, I suggest we leave it."

"Maybe the maintenance crew will touch it up, since we've done the rest."

"One can only hope they will. Because we've done all that we can do," Olive replied, taking in their surroundings. The few leaves that had been floating in the pool were picked up; the deck had been washed off and swept, leaving a sparkling off-white cool deck. The grass area between the deck and the gate was now lined with flowers, ready to bloom. The wood seats of the once bleak bleachers now held a shimmering white paint. All traces a trash and debris had been cleared. The concessions stand had been wiped down and scrubbed, clean of all dirt and dust. The only thing that needed to be fixed up was the mural behind the bleachers, something Olive and Chuck would not be able to do.

"What time is it?" Chuck asked through a yawn.

Olive looked at her watch, squinting to see the time in the light of the slowly sinking moon. "Ten to three," Olive replied, giving a yawn of her own.

"Oi," Chuck said, lying down on the ground with an unceremonious flop.

"At least we got it finished," Olive replied.

"And it only took five hours," Chuck said, rolling onto her back and looking at the stars.

"Double oi," Olive replied, flopping onto the lowest bleacher bench. The bench wobbled and there was a clink as something fell to the ground. Suddenly, Olive found herself lying on the ground, face first with the seat bench laying across her the tops of her legs.

Chuck stifled a laugh as she threw her arm over eyes, the other clutching her stomach.

"Why am I always the one who has to fall?" Olive moaned, kicking the board and rolling onto her back.

"I guess we aren't done yet," Chuck said, sitting up on one elbow.

"I'll get the wrenches," Olive replied, getting up and walking to their bags.

"You brought tools?" Chuck asked, getting up as well.

"I'd figured we might need them."

"Well, yeah. But I can't believe anything else fit in the bags," Chuck explained. "Olive, we had four paint cans and who knows how many things of flowers. It's safe to say we're lucky the flowers didn't get destroyed."

Olive smiled, pulling a wrench from the side pocket of each bag that they had brought. "Call us Mary Poppins," Olive said, throwing a wrench to Chuck.

"Poppins Squared," Chuck replied with a smile, catching the wrench with ease.

* * *

"You got in late last night," The Pie Maker said the following morning as Chuck wearily walked into the kitchen of The Pie Hole. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"Olive and I were out longer than we thought we'd be," Chuck said, casually sitting down. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"It was no problem," Ned replied with a shy smile. "What were you two doing anyways?"

"Girl stuff that would bore you to tears," Olive said as she walked into the kitchen with two large cups of coffee.

"Thanks," Chuck said, taking one of the cups Olive offered. Olive merely smiled as she slid onto a stool.

In times like these, when The Pie Maker noticed the growing bond between the waitress he employed and the girl he loved, Ned got a feeling of unease in his stomach. Though he could never say why. Perhaps it was because there were still too many secrets that were held between them; that would only lead to eventual trouble. Or perhaps it was because this special bond that was held between the two women would be a part of Charlotte Charles' life The Pie Maker would not be able to be a part of; as much as he craved to be every part of her life.

In the kitchen, the toaster dinged, popping up four waffles.

"Waffles?" The Pie Make asked, plating two waffles on two separate plates and handing each to Olive and Chuck.

"Thanks," Chuck said with a warm smile.

"Huh," Olive thanked, after taking a long drink of coffee.

"You're welcome," Ned replied. In the dining room the bell above the door dinged as Emerson Cod walked into the restaurant. The Pie Maker stood and walked towards the room, but stopped short when he caught sight of the back of Olive Snook's right shoulder. "Olive, how did you get that bruise?" Ned asked, eyes widening at the nice size bruise that covered a small portion of the back of Olive's shoulder.

"I boxed a kangaroo."

* * *

Olive shifted uncomfortably, lowering her hand after she knocked on the door. When shifting became too much, she settled for tapping her foot; her arms akimbo. After a few moments there was a quiet movement behind the door before it opened.

"Olive?" Aunt Vivian asked, opening the door wider.

"I have something to show you," Olive replied. With no further explanation she grabbed the woman, who generally didn't liked to be touched and pulled her from the house she rarely left.

"Who is it?" Aunt Lily's voice echoed from inside the house.

"It's Olive," Vivian replied, "And I think she's kidnapping me."

"What the hell?" Lily asked, appearing in the doorway. "What in the world do you think you're doing?"

Olive stopped and looked up. "Come on, I have something to show you two," she said excitedly, pulling on Aunt Vivian's arm like a five year-old.

"What?" Lily asked begrudgingly.

"It's a surprise!" Olive exclaimed, excitedly. The Aunts exchanged glances before Vivian shrugged; reluctantly letting Olive pulled her to her car.

"Come on!!" Olive yelled to Aunt Lily.

The woman sighed and grabbed a coat for herself and her sister."And she wonders why we don't like people," she muttered, walking from the house, letting the door lock with a click behind her.

* * *

"Olive why did you bring us here?" Aunt Vivian asked, as Olive led them to the gate of the pool arena.

"You'll see," Olive replied with a smug smile.

"I thought we told you we've cancelled for good." Lily said, bitterly.

"Perhaps you'll change your mind," Olive said, her smile widening as she pushed open the already unlocked gate. "Look," she finished, triumphantly, opening her arm in welcome as she held the gate open.

The two Aunts stepped into the pool arena, taking in a sight that truly surprised them both. The once messy arena was fixed up and clean. Flowers lined the grass and the bleachers had a fresh coat of paint.

"What the hell…?" Aunt Lily asked, her jaw dropping in the first look of surprise Olive had ever seen cross her face.

"The maintenance finally decided to clean up?" Aunt Vivian asked confused.

"Actually ma'am," a worker with a ladder said, as he and four others passed by, "We didn't, someone else did."

"What are they doing?" Lily asked, narrowing her eye.

"They're going to fix up the mural," Olive replied with a triumphant smile. "When I saw that the place had been picked up, I called to let them know your comeback was—back."

"You did what?" Lily asked, clearly not happy.

"I figured it wouldn't be a problem since the arena was clean," Olive replied, with a knowing look.

Aunt Lily said no more, simply directing her gaze away from Olive.

"It's a miracle," Aunt Vivian said, taking a step forward in awe.

"It's weird that they don't know who did it," Aunt Lily said, her usual pessimism shining brightly.

"I bet it was a Guardian Angel," Aunt Vivian said, smiling brightly.

"Who's closer than you could ever imagine," Olive whispered quietly as she and the Aunts watched the maintenance workers start to bring the mural back to dazzling life.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So this took me a lot longer to get up than I had intended, and I'm sorry for that! But I hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless!

Thank you all for reading and reviewing, I truly appreciate it!

Until next time,  
Kate!


	10. Chapter Ten: Olive's Day Off

Disclaimer: I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Ten: Olive's Day Off**

There are many things in this world that Olive Snook enjoys to do. This list is long and includes things such as horse racing, watching romantic comedies, running in the rain, and being a pie-baking waitress.

While Olive enjoys working at The Pie Hole and the life it has brought her, Olive enjoys her days off more; for they are her own personal days. She catches up on her reading and convinces herself that someday in the future she will learn how to knit. Other times she drinks too much tea and snacks on blueberries. On some occasions she will shop, spending countless hours trying on clothes; only to buy a few select items. And still on others, she will sit on her couch and eat ice cream, having a mini-movie-marathon.

But at this current time, on her most recent day off, Olive Snook was doing one thing she hardly ever did: rest. She lay, curled up on her couch, a warm fleece blanket covering her small frame. Her arm rested over her eyes, blocking out any light that tried to disturb her. Digby was lying on the opposite end of the couch, his head awkwardly placed atop Olive's knees.

Olive sighed, contentedly, letting the silence of the room engulf her. She often found silence to be a funny thing, as it was never the same thing twice. It could be awkward and tense or calming and reassuring. It could be haunting and disturbing or happy and satisfying. It was like lighting, never striking in the same way or place twice; quick to appear but with ever lasting affects.

From his spot on the couch Digby twitched as a dream began to engulf him.

Yes, it was days like these that Olive enjoyed above all others. After all, how often did a person get to be lazy and do absolutely nothing?

A quiet knock broke the silence of Olive's apartment. Since the noise was so subtle and Olive was more than relaxed, she wasn't sure if there had been any knock at all; until the noise sounded again, slightly stronger but still as timid as before.

Olive frowned and kicked her feet, "Wake up Digby," she said. Digby, lifted his head lazily, letting Olive sit up, before he relaxed again; instantly falling back asleep in a way that only a dog could. Olive stretched and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. As she stood, she stumbled slightly, feeling the blood rush back to her legs, the circulation having been cut of by Digby's weight. Olive quickly walked to the door, jumping and shaking her legs out in the process to rid the beginnings of the pins-and-needles feeling.

She got to the door just as her visitor knocked again. She stretched up onto her toes, peeking through the peephole to see who had decided to pay her a visit. Olive froze when her single peeping eye saw who was on the other side of the door; her mind immediately beginning to reel. How was it possible? How was he here? She had never told him? How could he have possibly known? It made no sense. And yet, as her mind panicked, Olive smiled.

"Fredo," she said, upon opening the door just as Alfredo Aldarisio was turning to leave, having decided that Olive Snook was not in her apartment.

Alfredo stopped and turned. "Oh good, you're home," he said, "Are you sick?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as Olive adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.

Olive smiled and shook her head. "No, just cold."

"Oh good, I'm glad you're not—sick," Alfredo replied, before the two lapsed into a silence.

"Um, Alfredo what are you doing here?" Olive asked after a moment's silence.

"Oh," Alfredo said with a slight jump. "Surprising you," he said with a smile, holding out a small bouquet of seven daisies that Olive had not noticed he was holding.

Olive blushed and took the proffered flowers. "Thank you," she said, sniffing the flowers. "Surprising me?" she asked, raising her brow.

"Yes, I'm taking you out for the day," Alfredo replied triumphantly.

"Where?" Olive tired to hide the smile that was slowly beginning to form on her face. She failed. Carefully she placed the daisies on the table by her door.

"Well, that's the surprise," Alfredo explained. "So, if I told you now then I'd have to kill you. Which would defeat the purpose of surprising you in the first place."

"I see," Olive replied, looking over her shoulder at Digby whose head was up and staring at the two humans in the doorway. She pondered the sudden turn her once calm and relaxing day had taken, though she supposed that Alfredo would not be leading her on some wild adventure. "Let me just go put some shoes on," she said, looking back to Alfredo who smiled and nodded. Neither made to move. "Um, you could, come inside…while you wait…?" Olive said, opening the door wider.

"Oh I, thanks," Alfredo stammered with a smile, stepping into the apartment.

"Be right back," Olive said, hurrying into her bedroom. Once the door was closed, Olive threw the blanket off her shoulders and frantically began looking for a comfortable dress to wear; she didn't need Alfredo to know that she had stayed in her pajamas until one o'clock in the afternoon. She decided on a light pink dress that would be warm, yet cool enough for the weather that was slowly giving way to Spring. She grabbed a pair of comfortable, flat white shoes that would be appropriate for anything; as she had no idea where they were going. Olive ran back to her bedroom door and opened it; by the time she stepped through she was as composed and calm as she had been before.

"This is okay, right?" Alfredo asked, standing from his kneeling position, where he had been petting Digby. "That I'm surprising you like this?"

"Of course," Olive replied, picking up a light weight coat that was strewn across a chair. "I put my shoes on didn't I?"

Alfredo smiled. "Yes, I just suppose I should have asked you before. Instead of just telling you, you know? I mean…I don't know if you have any plans. But Chuck told me it was your day off today so I just thought—not that I assumed that you wouldn't be doing anything, I just wanted to--,"

Olive stepped forward, cutting Alfredo off by placing a hand over his mouth. "Fredo, I put my shoes on," she said smiling and punctuating each word with a nod.

Alfredo smiled as Olive removed her hand from his mouth. "Okay."

"But do you mind if we stop by The Pie Hole first to drop Digby off?" Olive asked, patting her thigh as she grabbed Digby's leash. "I'd rather him be with everyone down there then up here alone."

"Of course," Alfredo responded. "Shall we?" He asked, motioning with his arm for Olive to lead the way out of her apartment.

"We shall. You know I--," Olive paused just outside her door, turning to Alfredo just as the door closed behind him with a click. "Did you say Chuck?" She asked, reaching around Alfredo to lock the door before turning to him fully.

"Yes?" Alfredo half asked half said, quirking his head.

"Did she tell you where I live too?" Olive asked, realization dawning on her. She had, after all, never told Alfredo where she lived.

"Yes, she gave me your address when she told me today was your day off. I—is that okay? I wanted to surprise you."

Olive smiled and grabbed hold of Alfredo's arm beginning to walk down the hall; Digby trotting along beside them. "No, it's not a problem," she said with a small smile. _Not this time_, her mind added.

* * *

Charlotte Charles stood in the kitchen of The Pie Hole, cutting strawberries. The Pie Maker stood across the counter from her, rolling out a large lump of pie crust dough.

"I'm just saying, it doesn't make any sense," Chuck said, picking up a strawberry and looking at it. "I mean, there's _blue_berries and _black_berries. So why wasn't the strawberry named the Redberry? Or raspberries. What about raspberries? They're red too."

The Pie Maker laughed. "But if they were both named redberries then there would be two different kinds of redberries."

The bell of above the front door rang.

"I didn't mean that they both had to be called Redberries, just that one--."

"Hiya y'all," Olive's voice called from the dining room cutting.

"Hey Olive," Chuck and Ned replied at the same time. Chuck peered through the open window to look at the blonde.

"I decided I'm going to go out today." Chuck secretly smiled, as she knew exactly who Olive would be spending her day with. "So I'm just dropping Digby off."

"Thanks Olive," Ned replied, never once breaking from his task of dough rolling.

"Have fun Olive," Chuck called, watching as Olive left.

Olive walked to the door, pausing just as she got the barriers and turned back around. "Oh! And Chuck!" She called, smiling sweetly.

"Yes?"

"I'm watching you," Olive said, dropping her voice an octave while she fixed Chuck with a pointed look before she left the building.

Had they been in any previous stage of their friendship, Charlotte Charles would have been slightly scared of the warning Olive had just given her. But it was the small, secret smile that broke across Olive's face that let Chuck know that giving Alfredo Aldarisio her address was very much appreciated.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Olive asked, bouncing her legs. She idly played with the edge of her seatbelt.

"You do realize we've been in the car for a total of thirty seconds, right?" Alfredo asked with a smile.

"Well, you haven't told me where we're going. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get some answers."

"Let's play a game."

"You're changing the subject."

"Yes."

"So you don't have to tell me where we're going."

"Yes."

"That's just mean."

"I think the Chain Game sounds good."

"What are we ten?"

"It's therapeutic to get in touch with your inner child."

"As therapeutic as herbal mood enhancers?" Olive asked, raising one brow.

Alfredo chuckled. "Almost."

"Top," Olive replied jumping right into the game and giving in to the temptation of her inner child.

"Pencil."

"Lips."

"Sin."

"Next."

"Tune."

"Enigma."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism"

"Mygodthatwasaridiculouslylongwordnowtellmewherewearegoing." Olive said in one long breath, earning her a look of amusement from her companion. Olive rolled her eyes. "See," she said, dryly. "I can do it too."

Alfredo chuckled. Olive smiled. Carefully, Alfredo parallel parked along the side of the street. Olive looked out the passengers side window, "Some random road?" she asked, quirking her head. "That's the surprise? Bringing me to some random road?"

Alfredo smiled and shook his head. Without a word, he unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. Olive quickly followed suit, stumbling with her seat belt and exiting the car.

"It's not exactly 'some random road'," Alfredo said, offering Olive his arm.

Olive tentatively took the proffered arm, allowing Alfredo her to lead her as they walked. She took in her surroundings. They had parked along a road Olive wasn't familiar with. It was small, but not the smallest of streets. On the larger side of small. Across the street sat a large ice cream parlor: Softy McSwirly's Ice Cream Parlor. She cast a backwards glance towards Alfredo's car and saw that just beyond their parking spot was the edge of what appeared to be a park.

Olive suddenly felt the feeling of seclusion; or the after effects of seclusion. She had lived in the city for six years, going on seven, and yet she had no idea this part of the city existed. Had she really been so devoted to her life at The Pie Hole and its surroundings that she had neglected to explore the city thoroughly? It wasn't that she hadn't gone out before, but Olive was beginning to realize that, perhaps, she hadn't gone out far enough.

"This way," Alfredo chuckled, pulling Olive from her thoughts, making her realize she was trying to go straight when Alfredo was pulling her to the right.

And suddenly Olive's surroundings became familiar. The thrill of excitement ran through her, along with a surge of emotion for the man whose arm she held. She looked ahead, twenty more feet and they would turn right down a small hidden alley way. After another fifteen feet they would turn left, where a small string of independent boutiques would meet them. Though she had only seen them in the dark, Olive knew that the boutiques were of different shapes and sizes, selling everything from books to antiques and everything in between. At the end of the long, narrow alley would be a diner where the food was always good and the atmosphere was always warm.

And it was then, on this particular day off, as Alfredo guided Olive through the narrow alley way that Olive realized she would be spending her day off in one of her favorite ways: shopping.

* * *

"So where do you want to go first?" Alfredo asked, stopping Olive when they turned onto the alley that held all the shops.

Olive looked around taking in her surroundings for the first time. The outside of each shop was painted with bright colors differing shades and hues. The shops seemed to topple upon each other, overlapping, trying to take up as much space as their small spaces would allow. The road that ran down the street was narrow, and one way, not allowing for more than a large car to pass through. Above their heads, atop the far wall was a street sign that read "Boutique Boutique Way"

"I don't know," Olive said, having never realized the small magnitude of this street in the few times that she had driven through it. "I don't even know where to look," she said, noticing that items from each store spilled out into the streets. "It looks so different than it does at night."

"The moon never really does this place justice," Alfredo explained, grabbing hold of Olive's arm and beginning to walk her down the street. Olive, on her part, didn't help at all, allowing Alfredo to guide her as she took in the seemingly magical street around her.

"I think the antique shop is as good a place as any to start," Alfredo said with a smile. Olive merely nodded.

Olive would quickly learn that Chic Antique Boutique was one of the smaller shops on Boutique Boutique Way; even though it held and sold the largest amount of items and trinkets on the Way. The shop was overly crowded, with people and trinkets. Each person had to skillfully worm their way through the shelves and matter that covered the floor. Olive clutched tightly of Alfredo's arm as they wound through the shop.

"How is anyone supposed to find anything in here?" Olive asked, as Alfredo practically picked her up to help her over a stack of books that blocked the narrow walking way.

"By spending hours looking through everything." Alfredo explained, guiding Olive to the center of the shop. "All of the best stuff is hidden," he said with his shy smile.

"No their not," Olive said in awe, as her eyes widened at the sight of a wall across from them. Alfredo watched in amusement as Olive nearly ran to the wall, almost tripping over a large cedar chest in the process.

"Do you like horses?" Alfredo asked.

Olive nodded enthusiastically, taking in a wall that was nearly completely covered in horse related trinkets of all shapes and sizes. Alfredo watched with intrigue as Olive took in the wall, looking like a small child in a candy shop.

"Look!" Olive exclaimed excitedly, grabbing at a plaque that looked like a large license plate. She held it out for Alfredo to read.

"My Other Mustang is a Car," Alfredo read the plaque out loud, chuckling.

Olive smiled. "I'm going to buy it," she said with a triumphant smile. Olive looked left and right, "Where's the cash register?"

Alfredo offered Olive his arm, which she gently took, and lead the way through the store to the cashier. "You don't want to look around more?"

"It would take weeks to get through this place. I'd like to look at some of the other shops too," Olive explained. "If that's okay with you."

Alfredo smiled. "Of course it is."

* * *

"H-E-L-L-O! Welcome to Book Barn Boutique!" An excited sales girl said when Olive Snook and Alfredo Aldarisio walked into Book Barn Boutique two and three-quarter hours later; from leaving Chic Antique Boutique. They had spent the time walking down Boutique Boutique Way, exploring every craft and trinket shop on the way. Olive found herself more enthralled and captivated by each store; this quaint, hidden way quickly becoming one of her favorite spots.

"Hiya," Olive said, taken aback by the girl's enthusiasm. Alfredo merely smiled and nodded awkwardly in response.

"Can I help you find anything?" The girl asked in a rush, sprinting around the counter she stood behind to stand in front of the couple. Alfredo shifted back and pulled at his collar; in ever present fear of the oxygen leaving the room taking hold as the girl invaded his personal space.

"Um, no we're just going to browse," Olive said, pulling on Alfredo's arm as she maneuvered around the girl, who wasn't letting them pass.

"Okay! Let me know if you, like, need anything!" The girl called after them as they disappeared into the many bookcases of the book store.

Book Barn Boutique was very much like Chic Antique Boutique. It was covered from floor to ceiling in books. Shelves and book cases were filled to the breaking point with books. The walls of the establishment disappeared behind the abundant amount of reading material.

"Do you like to read?" Olive asked, as Alfredo picked up a random book and began to thumb through it.

"Yes, I have a lot of time for it when I'm on the road. Especially if I do any traveling by train," Alfredo said. Olive nodded. "What about you?"

Olive grabbed a book and weighed it in her hands. "Yes, I do. But I don't do it nearly as often as I'd like."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they browsed the books, walking slowly through the many cases and shelves. Olive would occasionally glance at Alfredo, watching as his brow would knit in concentration as he read summaries of the different books he picked up. She would smile when he would laugh at reading some funny random passage. And though it appeared that he found some books funny or interesting, he would simply place them back where he got them, picking up the next book; looking for that perfect find.

"Oh! Do you like that book?!" The voice of the shop girl pulled Olive from her thoughts, as the girl appeared out of nowhere. She quickly approached Alfredo, who took a step back into the shelf he stood by.

"Then you should read this one!" The girl exclaimed, grabbing a near by book and practically shoving it in Alfredo's face. Olive watched, as a quiet look of fear slowly began to cover Alfredo's features as the shop girl invaded his personal space, excitedly rambling about the book she was telling him about. It was the same look, Olive quickly realized, that had crossed his face the first day they had met; when Alfredo had explained his anxiety of the earth losing it's atmosphere.

Olive quickly jumped forward. "Uh Time!" she yelled, grabbing hold of Alfredo's arm. "We're late. Really must be going," she said, pushing past the shop girl. "Thank you so much, we'll have to come back soon!" she called over her shoulder as she pushed through the shop door, leaving a bewildered Book Barn Boutique shop girl in their wake.

"Thanks," Alfredo croaked, digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out his own supply of herbal mood enhancers and dropping three drops into his mouth. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"I don't know what you're apologizing for," Olive said with a kind, toothy smile. "So," she said, clapping her hands together. "Where to next?"

Alfredo smiled and offered Olive is arm once more, taking the bag, with the item she had purchased from the boutique shop, from her. "I have an idea."

* * *

It was particularly hot for an early March day. A light snow covered the ground, though it refused to melt under the unrelenting sun. Olive and Alfredo walked through a small park that Olive hadn't realized lay just beyond Dempsa's Dining Diner. Olive's coat was draped over her arm as she clasped a water bottle in her hand, her purse draped over her shoulder. She and Alfredo walked side by side, Alfredo holding a thing of popcorn in one hand and a water bottle and Olive's purchase in another.

"This path runs through the whole park," Alfredo said, pointing ahead with his head that held is water. "It's not that big, but it wraps around the backs of the shops, ending at the street I parked the car on."

Olive nodded and Alfredo held the popcorn towards her, she grabbed a handful.

"Hey Fredo?" She asked, plopping a few popped kernels in her mouth.

"Hm?"

"Well I was just…you said you get tired of traveling," Olive started, plopping more kernels into her mouth and blocking her eyes from the sun with her hand. "And that you'd like to open up your own shop to sell you pharmaceuticals."

"Yes," Alfredo said, awkwardly grabbing at some popcorn.

"Do you want me to take the bag?" Olive asked.

"No I've got it."

"But I did buy it."

Alfredo smiled, shook his head and threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "It's fine, I want to carry it."

For a reason unknown to her, Olive blushed.

"Were you going to ask me a question?" Alfredo asked, taking two more pieces of popcorn.

"Hm? Oh yes. Well, I suppose I was just wondering why you don't do it. Open your own place."

Alfredo shrugged. "Money, time. Every reason. No reason. Traveling as its ups and downs. And it does get tiring, but I do like what I do." Here Alfredo paused, looking thoughtful and forlorn. It looked as if he had something else to say, but was unsure of saying it.

"Yes?" Olive asked, urging him on.

Alfredo sighed. "I suppose I'm just searching for my reason to stay," he said, quietly looking everywhere that wasn't Olive.

Olive smiled shyly and looked away, just as they began to cross over a bridge. "Beautiful," she breathed, taking in the sight of a small pond that opened from a small stream they were walking over.

"It is, isn't it," Alfredo said, walking up to her as they looked over the edge of the bridge. Olive nodded, closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath.

Olive found that, when she closed her eyes in surroundings such as these, she often felt the reverse effects of gravity. She took in deep breaths letting nature and the world fill her. The birds chirping, the water running, the trees swaying in the calm wind; she could hear every breath that Alfredo took in, his breathing tandem with her steady pulse. And slowly, ever so slowly, as she completely relaxed, the feeling that her feet were slowly leaving the ground would fill her, until she was positive that she was floating amongst the clouds.

"Oh my shoe," Alfredo's voice broke through Olive's thoughts, sending her flitting back down to earth.

"Wha?" She asked in a daze, turning to Alfredo, who was setting down his water, Olive's purchase, and the popcorn.

"My shoe is untied," he explained, bending to fix it.

Olive nodded and uncapped her water bottle, taking a swig. She held the bottle up to her eye level, inspecting the half filled bottle through the sun. She took another drink and looked down to Alfredo; and then she froze as words Alfredo had once said ran through her mind.

_"If I were any less of a gentleman I would have dumped the rest of my drink on you for that comment."_

It would be perfect. Too perfect. It was almost unthinkable. But funny, very funny. Borderline hilarious, but not quite reaching it. She could do it. It wouldn't take much. Just a slip of the wrist. But how would he react? He had seen her covered in chocolate syrup, so what was a little water? Yes, she would do it.

Carefully, as to not attract Alfredo's attention, Olive moved her hand that held her open water bottle away from her body. She froze; her hand and the water bottle hovering over his head. She but her bottom lip, slowly tipping her hand. She watched, a small ounce of adrenaline running through her, as the water slowly moved to the edge of the bottle; before it finally broke free of its containment, landing on Alfredo's head.

The man tensed as the water was poured over his head and shoulders, before he slowly looked up; an air of utter shock on his face. Olive bit her lip to keep from laughing, clutching her sides as she tried to breath.

"I—I can't…believe…" Alfredo slowly stood up, a smile spreading across his features.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not a gentleman," Olive said, laughing so hard that Alfredo had to catch her.

* * *

"Can you believe this?" Pim asked, walking into The Pie Hole, brushing snow from her shoulders.

Chuck looked up from wiping down the counter, "Believe what?" She asked.

"This weather," Pim said, sitting at the counter. "It was all sunshine and happiness this morning and now it's snowing like we're in the dead of winter."

"Yes," Chuck agreed. "It is odd. I thought we were going to have an early spring this year, it was so warm earlier."

Pim snorted. Outside, a car pulled up along the road, catching Chuck's attention. Pim followed the woman's gaze, watching as two figures emerged from the car, hunching together and racing to the door.

"Whose that?" Pim asked, scrunching her eyes to see through the immanent dusk and the falling snow.

"I'll give you three guesses," Chuck said with a smile. "First two don't count."

"Oh really?" Pim said, smirking, turning her full attention to the couple in standing outside the door. From the warmth of The Pie Hole Pim and Chuck watched as the taller of the two figures lightly kissed the smaller one on the cheek, before kissing their hand as well. The two seemed to say goodbye, before the taller figure ran back to the car while the smaller figure walked into the pie shop. The doors opened and Olive emerged a shivering, smiling mess.

Chuck pretended to busy herself and make it seem as if she hadn't been watching, though a knowing smile covered her face.

Pim, on the other hand, laughed. "Have fun, Olive?" she asked, smugly.

Olive jumped at the voice. "Oh heh," she stammered whilst brushing the snow from her dress. "Hiya Pim. Hiya Chuck."

"Have fun, Olive?" Chuck asked.

Olive blushed and nodded.

Pim made kissing noises. "Olive and Alfredo sittin' in a tree," she sang.

Olive rolled her eyes. "How old are you Pim? Five?"

Pim scoffed. "What? It's therapeutic to be in touch with your inner child every once in a while."

Olive smiled. "So I've learned."

* * *

**Author's Note: **There you go! I hope you enjoyed Chapter Ten! I don't know when I'll be updating again, but hopefully it will be soon.

Thanks for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it!!

Until next time!!


	11. Chapter Eleven: My White Knight

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Eleven: My White Knight**

_At this very moment Olive Snook was seven years, thirteen weeks, fifteen hours, and thirty-two minutes old and she was spending time with her new cousin Pim. _

_Olive slowly let go of the monkey bar; her arms dangled above her head as her legs kept her from tumbling to the ground. Her hair, pulled into two pigtails, tickled her arms as she swung the limbs back and forth. The overalls she wore kept her shirt from falling over her eyes. She wiggled her fingers, trying to reach the sand below as the blood slowly rushed to her head._

_Pim climbed the ladder of the monkey bars and reached out, she grabbed a hold of the first bar and swung forward; stretching to skip a bar and grab the next. She grabbed the bar with both hands and stopped, pointing her toes towards the ground, twisting from side to side._

_"When I get married," Pim said, twisting again. "I'm going to marry a knight." With a final twist she let go of the bar, landing gracefully on the ground._

_"How do you know that?" Olive asked, swinging back and forth, trying to swing her body up to grab a hold of the bars once more._

_"Because I do," Pim said, walking over to the jungle gym and climbing up the stairs until she was standing on the platform. She turned and watched as her cousin tried to right herself._

_Olive continued to swing forward until she was able to grab the closest bar and pull herself up. She quickly untangled her legs and dropped to the ground, landing on her bottom. She sat for a minute, feeling dizzy; though she would not yet understand that this phenomenon was caused be the blood rushing back through her body._

_"But you can't know that," Olive said, picking herself up and running to catch up with her cousin, climbing up the steps so she was standing next to her. She pushed past the other girl, running and bouncing across a wobbly bridge that connected two parts of the jungle gym._

_"Yes I can," Pim defended running after her cousin, trying to offset Olive's bouncing with some of her own. "He's gonna be tall and beautiful and have shiny armor and ride a big white horse!"_

_Olive rolled her eyes, the moment would later be the first time she recalled ever doing such a gesture, and continued on, stumbling off the bridge and walking to the slide nearby. "Oh yeah, well I'm gonna marry a knight too."_

_"You can't marry a knight, 'cause I am."_

_"I can too," Olive said indignantly, turning towards her cousin and placing her hands on her hips. Her pigtails swayed in the breeze. "'Cept my prince is gonna be taller than yours and beautifuller than yours and have green hair and orange eyes!"_

_"Knights can't have green hair and orange eyes," Pim said, marching over to her cousin._

_"Yes they can."_

_"Nuh uh."_

_"Yeah huh."_

_"Nuh uh."_

_"Yeah huh."_

_"No they can't, stupid," Pim said, crossing her arms._

_Olive's mouth opened in surprise. "I'm not stupid, you're stupid."_

_"Don't call me stupid, stupid," Pim replied, pushing past her cousin and going down the slide._

_"Hey!" Olive called. "I'm not stupid, you are!" Quickly, Olive slid down the slide. In her hurry to catch Pim, she tumbled when her feet hit the ground; landing, once again, on her bottom._

_Pim laughed loudly. In a flash she bopped Olive atop the head. "You're it!" She yelled, before running off. "Stupid!" She called over her shoulder._

_Olive humphed and pouted before pushing off the ground. "PIM!" She yelled, angrily taking off after her cousin._

* * *

Olive Snook bit the pen she was holding as she examined the open books before her. She hummed, punching in numbers into the calculator that sat nearby before entering the number into the ledger of The Pie Hole. Chuck sat beside her, refilling sugar dispensers. The Pie Maker was busy sweeping the floor clean. The day at The Pie Hole was almost over. Olive's watch ticked quietly, counting down the remaining seconds of the last five minutes that the "open" sign would stay up in the window.

The bell above the door rang.

"So help me, if I have to say 'Bitter much?' one more time, I'm going to scream," Pim said, marching over to the counter and sitting down. She threw her uniform hat on the marble.

Chuck and Olive laughed. "Bitter much, Pim?" Olive asked.

Pim rolled her eyes. "Hardy har har. You're hilarious."

"Thank you," Olive replied, smugly.

"Seriously," Pim said. "Working with Dilly makes getting four teeth pulled without any novocain sound like fun."

"Um, ow," Chuck said, finishing off the last of the sugar dispensers. "Why don't you just quit?"

Olive pointed to Chuck silently agreeing with her, before entering in a few more numbers into the ledger.

"I've been looking. I swear, no one is looking for new help," Pim said, picking at invisible lint on her hat.

Olive finished with the ledger and closed it, placing her pink pen on its front cover. "Well, keep lookin' you'll find something soon," she said, tapping Pim on the nose. Pim batted at her cousin's hand.

"Thank you for that wonderful encouragement," Pim replied, dryly with a scoff.

Before any of the three women could say another word, the bell above the door rang. Emerson Codd walked in, followed closely by one Alfredo Aldarisio. The private detective made way for the Pie Maker, while the traveling salesman walked straight to the counter.

"Hiya Fredo," Olive said with a smile when the man approached.

"Hi," Alfredo said shyly, feeling Chuck and Pim watching him with smug smiles. "Are you ready to go?"

Olive nodded. "Let me go get my purse," she said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Hiya Alfredo," Pim said.

"Pim, Chuck," Alfredo greeted each woman with nod and a smile.

"Are you and Olive doing anything special tonight?" Chuck asked, leaning forward on the counter.

"Just shopping and some dinner," Alfredo replied, shifting slightly.

"We've got to go," Emerson said, standing next to the Pie Maker.

"You get a case?" Ned asked, untying his apron and throwing it on a table. Emerson Codd nodded. Ned raised his hand and motioned for Chuck, tilting his head towards Emerson when he got her attention. She nodded and excused herself from Pim and Alfredo.

"By 'we', I meant you and me," Emerson muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"The we of me includes she," the Pie Maker muttered back as the girl named Chuck joined them and Olive reappeared from the kitchen. "Hey Olive, we're going uh--," he paused and looked to Pim and Alfredo who were listening on. "Well we're _going_. Can you take Digby with you?"

"Sorry, can't," Olive replied. "I'm _going_ too," she said, shooting Alfredo a shy smile; which Alfredo returned.

"Oh," the Pie Maker responded, looking to Digby who had emerged from the kitchen behind Olive.

"Maybe Pim can," Olive said, looking to her cousin.

"Me?"

"Yes, you can stay at my place with him until I get back," Olive said, rummaging through her purse and throwing her apartment key at Pim. "I'll even let you raid my fridge and won't get mad about it."

"Well!" Pim exclaimed, "When you put it that way," she finished dryly.

"Thanks cousin," Olive said, kissing Pim on the cheek in thanks before grabbing Alfredo's arm and pulling him out of The Pie Hole. Alfredo waved awkwardly as he was pulled through the door. With a few steps the two disappeared from sight.

"Let's go," Emerson said, leaving. Chuck and the Pie Maker waited for Pim to grab her stuff and the three left the building together.

"Thanks Pim," Ned said, locking his restaurant. The Pie Maker was not necessarily comfortable with the fact that Olive's cousin would be looking after his dog, but Olive trusted her and so the Pie Maker reasoned he should as well.

"Bye Pim! Thanks," Chuck called as she and Ned got into Emerson's car. Without any acknowledgement Emerson started the car and drove away; leaving Pim and Digby standing on the sidewalk.

"Five other people in the room," Pim muttered to the sky, "And I'm the one who gets stuck with the dog."

Digby barked and wagged his tail.

* * *

"Why do you always buy horse things?"

Olive looked from the small horse figurine she was inspecting to the man she had been seeing for two months. Alfredo looked at her with an amused smile.

"You know I like them," Olive said with a shrug, going back to inspecting the trinket she held. The statue was small, but not tiny. Two horses stood on a patch of grass, their snouts touching in what would be called an intimate gesture. Olive smiled at the two inanimate horses, so obviously in love.

"What I meant to say," Alfredo said, catching Olive's attention again. "Is: why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you like horses so much?"

Olive froze. She had figured it would only be a matter of time before she would have to explain to Alfredo that she was once a jockey. But that did not stop her from wishing that she didn't have to. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her racing days. She loved horses and she loved racing. But the general mirth filled reaction she got after telling people made revealing the fact something she'd rather not do.

"Oh you know," Olive said, waving her hand in the air. "I just—uh—grew up around them. So I just do."

Alfredo took a step forward. "What?"

"What what?"

"You're hiding something," Alfredo explained, amused.

"No I'm not, do you see any pockets on me?" Olive asked, utterly serious.

"Yes you are." Alfredo took the statue from Olive and examined it, hoping that it would give an answer as to what she was keeping from him. "Figuratively not literally."

Olive shook her head and took the statue back, cradling it as if it were a small child.

"If you tell me, I'll tell you one of my secrets," Alfredo tried to reason, tapping one of the horses heads lightly.

Olive eyed her companion. "You have secrets?" She said, as if she didn't believe him.

Alfredo chuckled. "We all have secrets, Olive."

Olive continued to eye the man before her as he continued to tap one of the horses on the head. He smiled at her. Olive sighed, wondering if she should reveal her secret.

Olive found that trusting Alfredo was something she had difficultly doing; even though she wanted to trust him more than she had wanted to trust any other person before. But due to recent events concerning one Jonah Burke, Olive Snook found herself unable to even trust the shy and sweet traveling salesman. But slowly, over the past two months of seeing him, her trust was blossoming.

Olive reasoned that she was being ridiculous, deciding whether or not she could trust Alfredo with the fact that she was once a jockey. It was hardly a secret; though it was significant. It was part of her past and who she still was today. And the embarrassment she often felt when she told people made telling Alfredo that much harder. As she could only recall the last time she had told someone her secret.

Olive shook her head. Alfredo continued to tap the horse on the head. Olive knew that sooner or later Alfredo would eventually find out that she was once a horse jockey. And so she figured, doing it now would get it out of the way and she would not have to dread revealing her secret at a later time; perhaps when it would be even more embarrassing.

"We'll trade secrets?" She finally asked. "If I tell you?"

Alfredo nodded and smiled.

Olive closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I used to be a professional horse jockey." And she waited. Olive waited for the small chuckle and laugh she always got, but it did not come. Slowly, she opened one eye, peering at Alfredo who simply looked at her with a wide smile. Carefully, she opened the other eye. "Well?"

"Did you really?"

Olive nodded.

"Astonishing," Alfredo finally said. "I can't say that's what I was expecting you to say, but astonishing nonetheless. How often did you race?"

Olive looked at Alfredo curiously, surprised that this was his reaction. But then, she knew, she should have guessed it wouldn't be anything else; it was Alfredo, after all. "All the time," she replied.

"Win often?"

A smile slowly broke across Olive's features. "Well of course."

"Do you still ride?"

Sadness filled Olive Snook's eyes. "No, I haven't in a long time."

Alfredo thought for a moment before smiling bigger than he was before. "There's I man I know. One of my clients. He owns a ranch just on the outskirts of the city; he lets people go a ride all the time. Perhaps we can go some time?"

Olive paused. Taken aback and awed by what Alfredo had just offered. He wasn't laughing or mocking; he was truly and genuinely interested in what she once did and wanted to be a part of it. A bright smile slowly lit her features. "I would love to, Fredo," she said, grabbing his hand.

Alfredo smiled and squeezed her hand in return.

"Now tell me your secret," Olive said, as she pulled Alfredo towards the cash register so she could pay for her horse statue.

Alfredo laughed nervously and awkwardly, "Well," he said, slowly. "I'm a Champion Long Jumper."

Olive stopped walking, causing Alfredo to run into her. He quickly grabbed her arm, steadying both of them at the same time. "You what?" Olive asked, regaining her composure.

Alfredo chuckled, "I'm a Champion Long Jumper."

"As in long jump, the track and field event?" Olive asked, still stunned. To say that that was the secret Olive was expecting Alfredo to reveal would have been a lie. Alfredo smiled shyly and nodded.

The facts where these:

For ten years, twelve weeks, and five days Alfredo Aldarisio had been a Champion Long Jumper. From time he was in junior high school until his untimely knee injury that forced him to retire in college, Alfredo had been on top of the world in terms of long jumping. There was no explanation for his unusual ease and talent for the sporting event, a fact that caused many competitors to become consumed with jealousy of Alfredo's talent. He won countless trophies, holding the most consecutive championships in Callum County as well as dozens of other national championships. As a young teen, Alfredo had set his goals high, training countless hours to make it to the Summer Olympics; a goal that would have been reachable had it not been for one fatal day.

At the age of twenty-two years, forty-two weeks, six days, and eighteen hours old, at the one event that would lead to his acceptance to the Olympic team, Alfredo suffered a horrible knee injury. The injury was caused by a rival jumper, who broke rules as well as a knee, to make sure Alfredo would not make the team.

Alfredo Aldarisio would never jump again.

"That's awful," Olive said, as they walked out of Tink's Trinket Boutique, her new purchase clutched in her hand. "What did he do?"

"Tripped me mid-run, just as I was about to jump," Alfredo explained, "I landed awkwardly, tearing a tendon and a ligament in my knee. I had to have surgery."

Olive shuddered, feeling a slight twinge in her knee. "That sounds painful."

Alfredo laughed. "It was." He bent slightly, rubbing his knee. "A few long months of therapy later and I was as good as new. Sort of." He offered Olive his arm.

"I know that feeling," Olive said, taking the proffered arm. "Once I was dismounting my horse The Pi and my foot got caught. I fell and tried to catch myself; ended up breaking my arm in two places."

As Olive and Alfredo walked to Dempsa's Dining Diner, where they were about to enjoy a scrumptious dinner, they continued to talk of their days past; sharing stories of injuries and experiences. Stories, they hardly told anyone else before.

* * *

As the aforementioned couple dined at Dempsa's Dining Diner, The Pie Maker, the girl named Chuck, and private detective Emerson Codd found themselves at The City Morgue.

"Just let us see the body," Emerson said through gritted teeth.

"Pay me my rent and I will," the morgue director responded smugly.

"I'll pay you _tomorrow_."

The director shook his head. "You know how it goes, you pay me, I show you and I don't tell anybody 'bout what ever funny business you do."

Emerson suppressed a growl of rage. "I don't have enough money right now, I'll pay you later."

"But, Emerson," Chuck spoke up. "You do have enough money right now."

Emerson's fists clenched, the Pie Maker choked on a laugh, and the morgue director smiled. Slowly, Emerson turned to Chuck. "What?" she asked.

The morgue director held out his hand. Begrudgingly, Emerson pulled a wad of cash out of his jacket and handed it to the other man. "Have fun," the director said, leaning back in his chair and counting his newly acquired cash.

"You do realize what I was trying to do, right?" Emerson said, as the door to the morgue room closed.

"Yes," Chuck replied, "But have you ever heard of honesty?"

"Heard of it yes. It is, however a term I occasionally wish to ignore."

"You know, I'm all for honesty and debating its practices," the Pie Maker intervened, "But for the minute I bring someone back I generally like the atmosphere to be calm and neutral," he said, waving his arms in small circles as if clearing the air.

Chuck smiled. Emerson rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Let's just get this over with," he said, leaning against the wall.

The Pie Maker nodded and pulled back the sheet that was covering the latest murder victim he would revive for a minute's time. Chuck stepped up to the table and stood by his side as the man marked his minute and touched the man sitting on the table before them.

"I thought I was dead," the man said, jumping to life and sitting up on the table.

"You are," Emerson said.

"Sort of," Chuck added.

"Who killed you and how did it happen?" The Pie Maker spoke.

"I'm pretty sure it was my brother," the man explained. "And I'm pretty sure he did it with a water gun."

The facts were these:

Alexander Bernstein was thirty years, twenty-nine weeks, two days, and six hours old when he inherited a very expensive and unique diamond ring from his mother's will. A diamond ring that was sought after by his brother: Abbot Bernstein. As both men wished to be engaged to their girlfriends and both had wished to be the recipients of the ring to use as their engagement ring; Abbot Bernstein was consumed with rage when he learned that the ring had not been left to him.

Following his fury burned instincts Abbot devised a plan to get the ring from his brother: a plan of murder. While the two brothers engaged in a childish game of playing with water guns, at a large picnic gathering, Abbot would fill his water gun with water and arsenic, purposefully spraying his brother in the mouth in hopes that he would swallow some. A hope that seemingly came true as Alexander Bernstein was now dead.

"All of this because of a ring?" Chuck asked. "Couldn't he just buy another one?"

"There's a superstition that runs through our family," Alexander explained. "The ring has been in our possession for generations and the only marriages that haven't ended in divorce are the ones that started with the ring."

"How sad," Chuck said.

"Where's the ring now?" Emerson asked, stepping forward.

"My pant's pocket," Alexander said, picking up the sheet that covered his body and looking underneath it. "Though I guess they don't allow clothes in the afterlife," he said, looking back up and resituating the blanket.

"You'll be dressed once the appropriate clothing is found," Chuck responded with a smile.

"Hey, is the afterlife fun?" the dead man asked. "I would hate for it to be boring," he added.

"Um, sure," Ned said, before touching the man again. Alexander fell to the table.

"You could have given him a better answer than 'sure'," Chuck said, as the Pie Maker pulled the sheet until it covered Alexander's entire body.

"One minute doesn't wait for better answers," Ned responded with a small smile.

"Where do they put all the dead people's clothes that they died in?"

"Don't they give them back to the family?" Chuck asked.

A loud crash sounded in a near by room. "Just tell me where my brother's clothes are," a voice yelled.

"Or they keep them here," the Pie Maker said, as the three bolted from the room. In the hall way a blur of a person ran by, stuffing a bright, shining ring into their pocket.

"Freeze!" Emerson yelled pulling out his gun. The blur froze and the three crime solvers were faced with who they assumed to be Abbot Bernstein. Abbot's eyes widened before he took off again, running from the room and the City Morgue. "What part of freeze don't people understand?" Emerson grumbled as he, the Pie Maker, and Chuck followed their murder suspect.

* * *

Olive and Alfredo walked out of Softy McSwirly's Ice Cream Parlor, each holding an ice cream cone.

"What's going on up there?" Olive asked, taking a large bite of her cookie dough flavored frozen treat. She pointed up the road where a blockade had a wide section of the road blocked off, from building to building; all sidewalk included. A deep gorge opened to the ground beneath the road.

Alfredo swallowed his mouthful of his double chocolate ice cream. "They're resetting some piping," Alfredo explained, taking in another mouthful of his treat.

"How do you know that?" Olive asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

Alfredo pointed to a nearby noticed that explained what construction was taking place and how long it would take place for. "Cheeky," Olive said, linking her arms with Alfredo's.

Without warning, something hit them in the back, sending them in opposite directions. "Hey!" Olive called, just as her ice cream slipped from her hand and fell to the ground.

Alfredo threw down his treat and ran over to Olive, "Are you alright?" he asked, worriedly. Olive nodded.

"Watch out!" Someone else yelled.

"Emerson?" Olive asked, as the man ran by.

"Olive!" Someone else yelled. Olive and Alfredo turned to see Charlotte Charles and the Pie Maker running towards them.

"Are you two okay?" Ned asked, as they approached. Both Olive and Alfredo nodded.

"Stop talking and help me!" Emerson yelled from up a head. With a nod the Pie Maker took off.

"What's going on?" Olive asked Chuck.

"Suspect," she said, pointing to Abbot Bernstein before taking off.

"Suspect?" Alfredo asked, turning to Olive.

"Come on," Olive said, before running after Chuck.

"Olive!" Alfredo called. "What are you doing?"

"We might be able to help!" Olive called back.

With a confused shake of the head, Alfredo ran to catch up.

Olive ran, awkwardly clutched at her purse and the bag that held her new horse statue, trying to keep them from inhibiting her running. She looked a head, watching as the man they were all chasing pushed aside one of the blockades that blocked the road. He quickly ran across a board that was connecting each end, placed for the workers to get across safely. Once on the far side of the road he kicked the board; prohibiting anyone else from crossing. Emerson came to an abrupt halt, before he fell into the construction hole.

"Why'd you stop?" the Pie Maker asked as he caught up with Emerson; Chuck, Olive, and Alfredo joining them.

"There's no way I can jump across that," Emerson panted. "Is there anyway to the other side?"

"You'd have to go down that street then cut through the park and go around," Olive said, pointing towards the street that led to Boutique Boutique Way. Emerson cursed.

From his spot on the other side of the road Abbot Bernstein smirked in silent accomplishment. In a way to taunt the people who had been chasing him, he pulled the ring out of his pocket and examined it in triumph.

"I can," Alfredo spoke, eyeing the distance from one side of the road to another. He paused, not even realizing he had spoken and not sure where the self-suggestion had come from.

"Can what?" Chuck asked. Alfredo continued to eye the distance between each side of the road.

"Fredo?" Olive asked, stepping forward, confused but having a feeling as to what Alfredo was talking about. Alfredo looked to Olive, catching her gaze. She looked worried and concerned, but awed at the same time. He smiled, suddenly filled with the confidence and the want to make it across the space and capture the man Olive's friends were chasing. At the moment it did not matterf why they were chasing him; all that mattered was Olive.

"Just make the way clear," he said, before turning and pacing back a specific measured length.

From his spot on the opposite side of the road, Abbot Bernstein put his mother's ring back in his pocket. He eyed the group across from him, wondering what their next move would be. Had he been smart, Abbot would have run a long time ago. However, consumed by the curiosity what was happening across from him, he opted to stay.

"What the hell is he doing?" Emerson asked.

"I think he's going to jump," Olive replied, taking a step back to give Alfredo a clear way.

"Jump?" Emerson asked in disbelief, as Chuck and the Pie Maker followed Olive's lead and stepped back.

"Shut up, he's helping you," Olive said. "Now move out of his way."

"I don't have time for this," Emerson sighed angrily, stepping back nonetheless.

From where he stood, Alfredo eyed his target carefully, taking in a deep breath. He glanced to Olive who was smiling at him encouragingly. Alfredo returned the smile and looked back to his jumping goal. With another deep breath Alfredo began to run.

Alfredo focused, his mind set on jumping across the gap in the road. He approached the end quickly, planting both feet on the ground and pushing off, swinging his legs forward. As Alfredo jumped, Abbot watched in horror as he realized what was happening. In a hurry he began to run away from the jumping man.

Alfredo landed on the other side of the chasm, pushing his momentum forward into an awkward run. He collided with Abbot, sending them both to the ground.

Quickly, Alfredo grabbed the man who was sought after by Emerson, Chuck, and the Pie Maker. They stood awkwardly, Alfredo clutching tightly to his new captive as the man tried to struggle. "Got him," Alfredo panted, out of breath.

Across the way, Olive ran to the edge of the gorge smiling in adoration. "Fredo," she breathed in awe, feeling her knees go weak.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there's chapter eleven. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!

Thanks to those who have reviewed! I really appreciate it!

Until next time!


	12. Chapter Twelve: Alfredo's Month Away

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Twelve: Alfredo's Month Away**

_It has now been four months, three days, and thirty two hours since The Pie Hole waitress, Olive Snook, started seeing the traveling salesman, Alfredo Aldarisio…_

The night air of the park buzzed. The stars above shined brightly; trying to beat the glow of the city lights.

Alfredo Aldarisio sighed and scratched his leg. He shifted awkwardly. The bench squeaked.

"Are you alright?" Olive asked concerned, turning to the man beside her.

Alfredo sighed again and looked shyly to Olive. "There's—uh—something I need to tell you," he said quietly and rushed.

"What is it?" Olive asked, turning slightly so she could face the man better.

Alfredo shifted again, "Well, I--." His voice trailed off.

"Yes?"

Alfredo coughed. "Um—."

As Alfredo's voice trailed off and he began to look more and more uncomfortable; Olive felt a small panic begin to rise in her being.

"Fredo?" Olive asked, making Alfredo shift uncomfortably and look away. "Alfredo what is it?" He still didn't answer. "Fredo." The panic began to come through her voice; making it quiver slightly. "What is it?"

"I—." Alfredo's voice trailed off once more.

"Fredo, you're scaring me," Olive said, feeling the panic begin to take hold of her entire being. "Are you running away and joining the circus?"

"I—what?" Alfredo asked, shaking his head. "No."

"You're dying, aren't you? That's it. You're dying," Olive felt her breath hitch as she began to take deep breaths. "You've got Type A Monkeyscoleitis, don't you?"

Alfredo quirked his head in confusion, turning fully to Olive, "Wha--?"

"It's Type B isn't it?!" Olive's voice rose. "Oh my gosh, it's Type B Monkeyscoleitis."

"What? I—no!" Alfredo grabbed both of Olive's hands. "Olive," he said, shaking her hands. He couldn't grab her attention as she continued to breathe heavily, seemingly in the midst of a panic attack. Without thinking, Alfredo reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small vile. He squeezed two drops of the herbal mood enhancer into Olive's slightly open mouth; Olive choked slightly and swallowed.

"What was that for?" Olive asked, sputtering.

"You were beginning to panic," Alfredo replied.

"Was not."

"You made up a disease," Alfredo said, suppressing a chuckle.

"Well you're not telling me something. It's not my fault my mind begins to wander."

Alfredo let out a small laugh.

"What is it Fredo?" Olive asked, taking Alfredo's hand in her again.

Alfredo sighed. "I have to go back on the road," he said quietly.

As Olive took in the information Alfredo told her, her reaction was twofold. First, she was relieved that Alfredo was neither joining the circus nor dying from Type A (or B) Monkeyscoleitis. And then she felt a sadness seep through her body, unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She couldn't quite describe it. But it was there, slowly taking hold; starting at the point where Alfredo's hand clasped her own.

"When do you have to leave?"

"Two days," Alfredo said quietly.

"Oh." Olive said, looking down. "How long will you be gone for?"

Alfredo sighed and shifted once more. "A month," he said, his voice even more quiet than before.

"A month," Olive voice echoed as she looked at their entwined hands. It wasn't forever. And it certainly wasn't that long of a time. A month. Four weeks. Thirty days. How bad could it possibly be?

* * *

_Week One_

Olive Snook was bored. Beyond bored. She was so far beyond bored, bored couldn't even describe it anymore. She sighed and rolled onto her back, switching off the television in the process. She didn't care about the news. Not now, anyways. She hadn't watched the news on a Friday night in she couldn't remember how long.

Tonight was the first Friday night in four months that Olive wasn't spending with Alfredo. Had she been smart, she would have planned her days accordingly; coming up with something to keep her busy. But no. For reasons beyond herself, Olive had become so caught up in the fact that Alfredo would be gone she hadn't been able to think of anything else.

Olive huffed and stretched, curling her toes. She was alone. There was Alfredo. No Chuck. No Ned. There was no one to talk to. Not even Digby was with her on this night. She was alone. And bored. Beyond bored. She was so far beyond bored, bored couldn't even describe it anymore.

Olive groaned as the same thoughts began to run through her mind.

She rolled onto her side, grabbing the current book she was reading off the bed side table. She rolled onto her back once more and held the book open above her head. She tried to focus on the words before her, but the more she read the more the pages began to fill with one single word: Bored. Over and over again, line after line, word after word. Bored began to consume her book, eating all of its literary goodness and reducing it to nothing more than an infuriating mess.

She growled, bringing the book down onto her face; wondering if suffocation by literary device was possible. A sigh escaped her lips once more before throwing the book across the room; letting the thud echo around the room.

She tapped her bed, wiggled her toes, and counted the number of breaths she was taking. Sometime around thirty-two, Olive decided enough was enough. She jumped off her bed and grabbed her shoes, all but shoving them on her feet. She needed to get out; out of her stuffy apartment and all its emptiness.

With only one destination on her mind, Olive left her apartment.

* * *

It was hot outside, the summer night sticky; a promise of rain in the morning. And though it was hot, Olive readily welcomed the special warmth of Dempsa's Dining Diner. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting the aroma of the quaint diner fill her.

"Olive dear!" Dempsa's voice broke Olive's thoughts. She opened her eyes and smiled as the diner owner approached.

"Hiya Dempsa," she replied with a warm smile.

"Where's your charming other half?" The older woman asked, making Olive blush.

"Away on business," she answered. Dempsa nodded, judging by Olive's tone that this was the first time Alfredo was away since they had started their romance.

"How long is he gone this time?"

"A month," Olive replied, trying with all her might to keep a sigh from ending the sentence.

"Well that's not so bad," Dempsa said, "Now come in deary and I'll fix you something to it."

"Oh that's alright, Dempsa. I'm not really that hungry."

"Then how about a shake or a cup of coffee?"

Olive shook her head and looked at her feet.

The diner owner quirked her head to the side. "Olive," Dempsa said, taking a step forward and lifting the younger woman's chin. "Why did you come here?"

Olive blinked and looked around, as if realizing where she was for the first time. "I don't know," she said quietly.

Dempsa nodded knowingly and smiled; suppressing a small laugh. "Come on deary and sit down, I'll fix you some tea," she said, guiding Olive to the counter and sitting her down.

Olive sighed, kicking her legs as they dangled from the height of the stool. She accepted the cup of tea Dempsa handed her and took a long drink.

One weeks time was beginning to look like _too_ much time.

* * *

_Week Two_

The Pie Maker stuck his head into the kitchen, looking around. "Olive isn't in here is she?"

Chuck stopped cutting peaches and looked up, giving Ned a look that wouldn't be described as anything other than: "Can't-you-see-I'm-the-only-one-here?". "No," she answered, wiping her hands on a towel.

The Pie Maker quickly walked into the room, looking over his shoulder nervously. He walked to the far side of the table, dropping a news paper on the surface. "You have to see this."

"Did you steal Emerson's paper?" Chuck asked, leaning forward slightly.

Ned shook his head. "He put it on the table then left. And I saw this," The Pie Maker said, pointed to a specific article.

The girl named Chuck furrowed her brow as she began to read; before she exploded. "What?!" she shrieked.

"Ssshhhh," Ned whispered, shooting a quick glance to Olive in the other room. She was busy taking a customer's order; oblivious to the happenings in the kitchen.

"They can't be serious!" Chuck whispered harshly.

"Apparently they are."

"But don't they realize--?"

"I don't know." Ned shook his head.

"But they can't do that! They _can't_."

"And yet they might."

"We can't let her see this."

"But we can't keep her from all the newspapers in town. There's still the possibility that she'll come across it."

"Well we can do our part to prevent it as long as possible," Chuck defended indignantly.

"Don't you think it might be best to tell her now, so she's not shocked later?"

"Sometimes ripping off the band-aide isn't always the best method," Chuck replied. "I still can't believe this."

"Well it might now happen. But it could," The Pie Maker tried to comfort, knowing it wouldn't be enough.

"Hiya y'all," Olive said, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey Olive," Chuck and Ned replied at the same time, looking up from the newspaper before looking back down. Simultaneously their heads snapped up.

"Olive!" Chuck yelled, looking nervously at Ned. "Look Ned, it's Olive!" The Pie Maker laughed awkwardly, taking the newspaper and balling it up, hiding it behind his back. "Olive!" Chuck yelled again, running over to the smaller woman and grabbing her shoulders. "Hi Olive."

The Pie Maker waved.

Olive quirked her brow, looking at Ned and Chuck as if they each had grown three horns. "Um, Hi Chuck. Hi Ned."

"You're look wonderful today Olive," Chuck said in a rush. "Don't you think so Ned, I think so. Just wait until Alfredo sees you."

"Alfredo isn't back for another two weeks," Olive said, slowly taking Chuck's hands off her shoulders. "Are you two alright?"

"Peachy!" Chuck replied.

"Fine," Ned choked out.

"What are you hiding?" Olive asked taking a step around Chuck, trying to peer behind Ned's back. The Pie Maker shifted, keeping the paper out of Olive's gaze.

"Me?" The Pie Maker replied. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Behind your back," Olive said pointing.

"What? Oh this?" Ned brought the wadded newspaper out in front of him. Behind Olive's back, Chuck made a motion for him to throw it away. "Just newspaper."

"Newspaper?" Olive asked, wondering why he had been so keen on hiding the newspaper behind his back.

"Just old newspaper," The Pie Maker replied, walking over to the trash. "That needs to be thrown away." Instead of dropping the paper on top of the trash, Ned shoved it in, pushing it as far down into the trash receptacle as he could without touching any trash.

Olive looked back and forth between a smiling Chuck and a nervous Ned. She shook her head. "I'm going to cut some slices of pie and go back out there," Olive said, pointing to the dining area. The next few minutes passed in silence as Olive cut two pieces of Persimmon Pie. She looked at the other two occupants of the room, shook her head, and left.

When Olive disappeared from sight The Pie Maker and Chuck let out sighs of relief. "You know, you were supposed to throw the paper away when she first came in. Not hide it," Chuck said, walking back to the table.

"I panicked," The Pie Maker said, making Charlotte Charles smile.

"What are we going to do now?" Chuck asked, looking to the trash bin that now held the paper they had been looking at.

"The only thing we can do," The Pie Maker replied. "Wait."

* * *

_Week Three_

"I bought you something."

"Alfredo Aldarisio you did not!" Olive exclaimed, twirling the phone cord in her hand.

There was a chuckle from the other side of the phone. "I did."

"Why?" Olive asked, kicking her feet. She chided herself for feeling like a love-sick school girl.

"Because I felt like it," he replied. "I saw it and it reminded me of you."

Olive felt a blush run down her neck. "Well thank you," she replied quietly. "Unless it's something ugly or gaudy. Then I'll be offended."

Alfredo laughed again. "I promise it's not ugly. It's quite beautiful."

Olive felt the blush cover her ears and cheeks. "So did you sell a lot of stuff today?"

"A good amount," Alfredo replied, his voice distant. Olive imagined him holding the receiver away from his mouth as he chewed a mouthful of the not-that-good room service food he was more than likely eating. "How goes the pie selling business?"

Olive smiled. "Same ol' same ol'. Though each day it gets busier and busier. I think pie is more of a summer food than holiday food."

"How can pie be more of a summer food than holiday food?" Alfredo asked, sounding as if the mere thought of such thing was an insult to humanity. "Pies breed during the holiday season."

Olive snorted. "They're more of a summer food because I'm in the pie business and sales always double during the summer season. People like to come and get pies for their picnics or what ever it is they do during the summer."

"I still think you're wrong."

"Fine," Olive said, twirling the phone cord once more. "Don't believe me."

A quiet dinging noise sounded, making Olive jump. She panicked slightly before realizing that it was the clock hanging in her hall; the chime signaling midnight.

"What is that?" Alfredo asked.

"A clock I have hanging in my apartment," Olive explained. "Apparently it's midnight."

"It is?" Alfredo asked. Olive imagined him turning and looking a near by clock. "It is." There was a quiet shifting sound. "I should probably go," he said quietly. "I need to get up in a few hours."

Olive coughed, covering the sigh that was on the verge of escaping her lips. "Alrighty."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Alfredo asked. Olive nodded, having a feeling Alfredo knew she had responded even though he couldn't see her.

"Goodnight, Fredo," Olive said quietly, feeling a sad pull in her stomach at having to hang up. What was happening to her?

"Goodnight Olive," Alfredo replied.

Olive was about to hang up when she paused. "Fredo?!" She yelled, bringing the phone back to her ear. Olive paused, not sure what had come over her, though all too aware of the words there were hovering on her lips.

"Yes?" Came the confused reply.

Olive paused, wondering if she should speak the words she most wanted to.

"Olive?" Alfredo asked quietly.

"I miss you," Olive said, her voice just above a whisper.

There was a pause. "I miss you too," Alfredo responded.

From her spot on her bed Olive Snook imagined Alfredo Aldarisio smiling; and she allowed her self to smile in return.

* * *

_Week Four_

Olive Snook jumped at the sound of knocking on her door. Quickly, she hopped off her couch, throwing the book she had been reading onto the coffee table. With a bright smile she opened the door, ready to greet the person on the other side. "Oh it's you," she said, her smile fading.

"Hello to you too, cousin," Pim replied, pushing her way into Olive's apartment, a suitcase clutched in her hand.

"I was expecting Alfredo; he said he would be back today or tomorrow," Olive explained. "Though he did say he would call first."

Pim snorted. "You two are so sweet it makes me sick," she said, her tone and smile teasing.

Olive rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here, Pim?"

"Well," Pim said, heaving her suitcase onto a chair. "I know you've been bored out of your mind with your boy friend gone, so I figured we could have a sleep over—for old time's sake."

Olive raised her brow and stepped forward, opening Pim's suitcase. "There are enough clothes in here to last a week."

Pim shrugged. "The air being out in my apartment complex is a mere coincidence."

Olive rolled her eyes again and shoved her cousin, walking back over to the couch and sitting down. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Pim walked over and sat down, "I thank thee."

* * *

Olive Snook was pacing.

"Would you sit down?" Pim asked, stretching across Olive's couch, her head hanging over its arm.

"Where is he?"

"He said he would call before got in," Pim said.

"Yesterday! He said he would be back yesterday at the latest and he hasn't even called yet!" Olive nearly yelled, her impatience flaring.

Pim sighed and sat up. "Maybe he couldn't get a train out," Pim tried to reason. "Maybe he had to make another sale. Maybe he had a last minute meeting with someone--,"

Olive froze. Pim continued to ramble on different reasons as to why Alfredo had not come back from his month on the road, but Olive didn't hear a word of it. She was frozen, the single word "someone" echoing in her mind.

That was it. That was why he hadn't called yet. Why he was a day late. He had met someone else. It was the only explanation. It was bound to happen, after all. He was a traveling salesman; always on the road, always meeting new people. Sooner or later he was bound to come across another woman; a woman who was smarter and prettier and funnier and all around better than she was. She should have known it would happen; the past two months had been too perfect. And when it came to romance, perfect and Olive didn't go in the same sentence.

That was it. He would come back and tell her he had met someone else and that would be the end of Olive and Alfredo.

"Olive…Olive…Olive!"

Pim's voice broke through Olive's reverie, her hand waving in front Olive's face.

"Wha?" Olive asked, shaking her head. She was shocked to see Pim standing before, having not realized she had moved.

Pim smirked. "Where did you go?"

"Go?"

"You disappeared on me for a second."

"Sorry," Olive replied, her voice far off and quivering slightly.

Before Pim could respond and knock sounded; pulling both Pim and Olive's attention to the door. "Well on," Pim said.

Olive froze. She didn't want to open the door only to be met with heartache.

"Open it," Pim said, pushing Olive towards the door before going back to sit on the couch.

Knowing she wanted her heart break to happen sooner rather than later, Olive went to open the door. _Like a band-aide_, she thought. _Rip it off just like a band-aide._

Olive opened the door to see Alfredo standing before her. "Hi Olive," he said quietly.

"Hiya," Olive said her voice shy and scared. She looked to the ground.

The two paused, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Olive felt Alfredo grab her hand. Slowly, she looked up, meeting Alfredo's gaze. Here it was. This was it. Olive braced herself for rejection; but there came none. Instead of hearing words of rejection, Alfredo pulled Olive to his body; embracing her in a soft, strong, comforting hug. This could not be the embrace of a man about to break her heart, Olive reasoned. She felt relief flood through her, making her entire body relax.

"Are you okay?" Alfredo whispered into her ear.

Olive nodded, tightening her arms around Alfredo. "I'm fine."

"You're shaking."

Olive shook her head, "I'm perfect."

Alfredo pulled back slightly and smiled. Without a word he reached into the bag that was sitting at his feet and pulled out a long, single rose. Upon closer inspection Olive realized that the rose was made of glass, beautifully blown into the elegant flower that it was.

"For you," Alfredo said. "I hope you like it."

Olive gasped. "Fredo, it's beautiful," she said, carefully taking the item in her hand. She examined it in awe before turning back to a smiling Alfredo. Standing on her toes she kissed Alfredo lightly before circling her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely.

"Thank you," she whispered as Alfredo's arms circled her waist.

From her spot on the couch Pim rolled her eyes and gagged, smiling nonetheless.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!

Thanks to all those who reviewed!

Until next time!


	13. Thirteen: The Fall: Prisoner's Dilemma

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pushing Daisies

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Thirteen: The Fall: Prisoner's Dilemma**

_Eight months, two weeks, three days, and thirteen hours…_

Charlotte Charles hummed quietly as she opened her apartment door and stepped outside. The September air was crisp and cool; a light breeze blowing through the air. She took in a deep breath, loving the smell of the autumn air. Her sweet moment of serenity was interrupted by a loud pounding noise. Chuck opened her eyes to see a man she had never seen before, standing at Olive's door; knocking on it as if there was no tomorrow.

The man looked flustered, his hair askew and his tie crooked. He had a briefcase clutched in his hand and a stack of paper tucked under his arm. His pants were too tight, no doubt the fault of the dry cleaner shrinking them, and his jacket was too big, no doubt the fault of the dry cleaner giving him someone else's jacket.

He sighed in frustration as his briefcase fell from his clasp, dropping to the ground and popping open. He grumbled incoherently as he picked up the papers that had spilled forth, then stood; beginning is incessant pounding on Olive's door once more.

"Can I help you?" Chuck asked, taking a cautious step forward.

The man jumped and turned, surprised to see someone else. "Who are you?" He asked, accusingly.

"I live here," Chuck responded defensively, pointing behind her then folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm looking for your neighbor," the man replied, he grabbed at the paper under his arm and read from it. "Olive Snook."

Chuck's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I represent the County Attorney's Office. I need to speak with Ms. Snook immediately," the man said, showing Chuck his identification.

Chuck's brow furrowed further and a sense of panic welled in her stomach. "Oh." Was the only response she was capable of emitting.

"Do you know where she is?" He asked, sounding more frustrated and flustered by the minute.

Chuck nodded, somberly, "Follow me."

* * *

Two minutes later Chuck walked into The Pie Hole, Mr. County Attorney's Office following her. "Wait here," she said over her shoulder, making the man pause in the door way as Chuck continued toward Olive; who was standing behind the counter talking to Alfredo and Pim.

"Hey Olive," Chuck said, approaching the three.

"Yeah?" Olive asked, looking towards Chuck.

"There's someone here asking for you," Chuck said as way of explanation, pointing to the man in the door way.

Confusion crossed Olive's face. "Who is it?" She asked as Pim and Alfredo turned to see who Chuck was talking about.

Chuck shrugged as a means of lying; not wanting to explain the man was from the County Attorney's Office, when she herself didn't know all the details.

"Okay," Olive said, walking around the counter to approach the man.

Chuck quickly ran into the kitchen to find the Pie Maker rolling out a lump of dough. "I think you better come out here," she said without preamble.

"Chuck? What's going on?" Ned asked, toweling off his hands and stepping forward.

Chuck sighed. "I don't know--but I don't think it's good."

* * *

"Can I help you?" Olive asked, taking a few steps towards the disheveled man in the doorway as he sorted through papers in his hand. She took in his appearance, deciding he looked like he just stepped out of a tornado.

He jumped and looked up, "Ms. Snook?" He asked, stacking all of the papers to the best of his ability without a surface to help him.

"Yes," Olive replied cautiously, crossing her arms. Chuck and The Pie Maker walked into the room, standing behind the counter, just opposite Alfredo and Pim.

"My name is Jonathan Sharpe, I'm from the County Attorney's Office," he said. There was a brief pause before he stuck out his hand.

Olive shook his hand feeling a sense of dread fill her. The County Attorney's Office? Her brain buzzed. "Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. She turned and walked back to the counter, standing next to Alfredo. He touched her arm briefly and Olive felt calm wash through her.

"Yes," Jonathan said, walking forward as well. "On behalf of the County Attorney's Office, I was sent here to ask you if—if--," he paused and flipped through the pages in his hand again, swallowing nervously. "-If you would be willing to testify as a witness in court against a Mr. Calvin C. Crawford."

Olive's mind went blank as complete confusion wrapped her being. The Pie Maker, Chuck, Pim, and Alfredo all looked to Olive; their brows furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," she replied. "I don't know a Calvin Crawford."

"You don't? But--Oh that's right," Jonathan began to rummage through his papers again. "You would know him as Jonah Burke," he finished, reading the paper.

The world around Olive seemed to freeze. Her face blanched white as her breath left her and her pulse stopped. Chuck and Ned froze, a small gasp emitting from Chuck's lips. Alfredo looked concerned at Olive's reaction, not knowing what was going on; though he had a slight idea as to what this man was referring to. He touched Olive's arm again, rubbing slow circles in a reassuring manner.

Pim looked confused at the reactions of the people around her. "Who's Jonah Burke?" she asked. No one responded.

"No," Olive replied, her voice and body shaking.

"But Ms. Snook--."

"I said no," Olive said again, interrupting Jonathan Sharpe's plea.

Jonathan sighed and stuffed the papers he had been holding into his brief case. "Ms. Snook, it's the county's goal to get four of the five woman Mr. Crawford had been involved with to testify. With the unfortunate death of Ms. Amy Thompson that makes the fourth woman you."

"I suggest you get your facts straight," Olive said dangerously taking her step forward. "I was not a victim of _Mr. Crawford_," she said with a bite. "I was merely a tool in his little game. If anyone should testify it should be him," she said, pointing to Ned. "He owns The Pie Hole, the establishment Jonah was going to steal from.

"Who's Jonah Burke?" Pim asked again.

"While it was Mr. Crawford's intention to steal money from The Pie Hole," Mr. Sharpe defended. "You were still the one in direct relation with Mr. Crawford."

"My answer is still no," Olive responded, defiantly.

"But Ms. Snook, by testifying you can help insure that Mr. Crawford is locked away for a very long time."

At this Chuck snorted, a loud very un-ladylike snort of disgust.

"What was that?" Olive asked, as everyone turned towards the girl named Chuck.

"Nothing," she said, sheepishly, as Ned pulled at his collar awkwardly.

"Who's Jonah Burke?" Pim tried once more, her question, once again, ignored.

"Ms. Snook, please," Jonathan Sharpe tried one more time.

"Mr. Sharpe, it is my every intent to never seen Jonah Burke again, and that includes testifying against him. I'm sorry, but I will not do it," Olive said, as steadily as she could, feeling a weight beginning to settle in her stomach. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do, I suggest you leave. Good day." Without another word Olive turned and walked into the kitchen, her shoulders sagging with weariness.

"Can I go back there?" Alfredo asked Ned. The Pie Maker nodded and Alfredo quickly followed his girlfriend.

"There's not any chance she's going to change her mind, is there?" Mr. Sharpe asked.

"No," Chuck said as Ned shook his head.

Jonathan Sharpe sighed. "Perfect," he muttered. "Well—if she changes her mind or anything, here's my card. Just tell her to call me," he said, handing Chuck his business card. "Thank you for you time. Good day." With a nod of the head Jonathan Sharpe, from the County Attorney's Office, left The Pie Hole.

"Who. Is. Jonah. Burke?" Pim asked, her voice strained with frustration. "Why does Mr. Tight Pants want Olive to testify against him? And what the _hell_ does Olive have to do with him in the first place?"

Chuck and Ned exchanged a nervous glance. The Pie Maker tilted his head towards Olive's cousin and Chuck sighed, nodding. She turned to Pim. "Last Christmas…"

* * *

Five minutes later Pim Madison quietly walked into the kitchen of The Pie Hole. Olive stood in the middle of the room, clutching the metal table and taking deep breaths. Alfredo stood behind her, rubbing slow circles on her back with one hand and resting the other atop Olive's. Alfredo looked up when Pim entered, Olive did not.

"May I?" Pim mouthed, pointing to Olive. Alfredo nodded and kissed Olive's temple before stepping back, making way for Pim.

Pim approached Olive tentatively, talking hold of her shoulders and turning her cousin until they were face to face. Olive's face was tired and weary, a weight that she didn't want or need apparent on her face. She gave a frustrated sigh and clenched her fist, looking down and away from Pim. "Oh Olive," Pim said, pulling Olive to her and wrapping her arms in a strong hug.

Olive stiffened at the contact, having not hugged her cousin in years. Then after a moment, Olive sagged, burying her face into her cousin's shirt as tears of frustration finally began to fall.

* * *

Olive Snook shivered as an autumn wind swirled through the air, nipping at her small frame. Dead leaves whirled at her feet before falling to the ground. She sighed and looked at her watch. Alfredo was late. And she was beginning to regret telling him that she would meet him outside of The Pie Hole.

When they had first made the arrangement it seemed like a good idea. After all, what was the point of Alfredo getting out of his car and walk up to get Olive when they would be in the car again in less than two minutes? There was no point. So she had told him she would come down and wait for him outside the restaurant. She would have no problem waiting in the cold weather for only a couple of minutes, as she had reassured him five times. But Olive hadn't counted into the fact that Alfredo might be late.

She sighed and looked at her watch again before rubbing her arms to try and generate heat. It wasn't that Alfredo was a few minutes late. No, he had chosen today of all days to be twenty minutes late. And Alfredo Aldarisio was never late.

Olive groaned as the wind picked up again. It wasn't freezing out. It would actually be somewhat bearable if it wasn't for the wind. But there was wind, picking up at the most inconvenient of times. Olive wondered if they should cancel their plans for today and do something else instead, as they would be spending their time outside.

"No," Olive muttered to herself. "I've been looking forward to this for a month." She looked at her watch again: twenty-seven minutes. She sighed and tapped her foot. The wind died down before picking up again with force, nearly taking Olive with it. She stumbled back into a window of The Pie Hole. She clutched at the glass, trying but failing, to find something to hold her still so she didn't fly away.

The wind died for a minute, but she stayed put against the window, fearing what would happen if the blasted weather should pick up again. Yes, perhaps canceling and doing something else was the best idea.

"_No."_ Olive muttered to herself again. They were going to do this today. "Through wind and rain and sleet and snow." Though she was no mailman, Olive decided the saying was fitting nonetheless.

Just as Olive was about to check her watch again, Alfredo pulled up to the curve. Quickly, Olive ran to the car, throwing the door open and jumping in.

"Sorry I'm late," Alfredo said, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

"What took you so long?" She asked, holding her hands in front of the air vent for warmth

Alfredo waved his hand in the air, "Work, nothing exciting," he said quickly. "Are you alright?" He asked, as Olive desperately tried to warm herself.

"Just cold. The wind is a beast right now."

"Then should we wait?"

Olive shook her head. "We'll be fine. Who knows, the wind might make it more exciting."

"Regular daredevils, we are," Alfredo said, pulling away from the curve.

Olive smiled. "Well, it's never stopped me before, so why should it now?" She asked, feeling a stir of excitement surge through her. It had been far too long since she'd been horse back riding.

* * *

Old McD's Barnyard Ranch was exactly what one would think of a ranch to be. Acres of green grass stretched as far as the eye could see. Animals of different shapes and sizes roamed the property; within the confines of their gated areas. A pleasant and not so pleasant aroma filled the air, which could only be described of that as a ranch aroma.

"Alfredo, ma boy," a man said approaching, as Olive and Alfredo exited their car.

"Hello Mr. McD," Alfredo said, quickly shaking hands with the man.

"And this must be the lovely woman you were talking about," Mr. McD said, extending a hand to Olive.

Blushing, Olive shook his hand. "Hiya," she replied, with a smile. Olive had to suppress her laughter at the sight of Mr. McD, for she was certain he was taken right from one of her childhood picture books. He wore a button up shirt and overalls, with a straw hat placed atop his head. His face was jovial, his cheeks red; a pot belly completing it all. For all intents and purposes he was a barnyard Santa Clause. Something inside Olive told her Mr. McD only dressed this way to comply to the stereotypes his visitors would have of ranch owners.

"—As you can see, we have much more than just horse," Mr. McD's voice pulled Olive from her thoughts, making her realize that Alfredo and Mr. McD had begun to walk; both thinking she was with them. She quickly took a few steps until she was with them. "We've got some cows and pigs and sheep."

"Oh my," Olive said only loud enough for Alfredo to hear. The man chuckled quietly.

Mr. McD led them to a gated area, he opened the gate "You two wait right here and I'll be back with your rides," he said, before walking to a barn that the gate surrounded.

"I don't think I've thanked you for bringing me here, yet," Olive said, standing on her tip toes and kissing Alfredo lightly.

Alfredo smiled and let out a shaky breath, "You're welcome," he said, his gaze drifted beyond Olive, his smile wavered and he gulped, before looking back to Olive. "It's uh—a good thing the wind has died down," he said nervously.

"What's wrong?" Olive asked, tilting her head to the side.

"N-n-nothing," Alfredo replied, shifting.

"Fredo," Olive's voice warned. Alfredo shifted again as his gaze strayed beyond Olive again. Olive turned and followed his gaze; finding he was staring at the spot where Mr. McD would appear any minute with the horses they would be riding. She looked back to Alfredo, suddenly recognizing the quiet look of fear and anticipation. "You've never ridden a horse before, have you?"

Alfredo looked down, locking eyes with Olive. "Of course I have," he defended.

Olive laughed quietly. "When?"

"When I was ten, at the Callum County Fair."

"What? Those little roundy things that ponies are tied to?" Olive asked.

"It was not a pony," Alfredo replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "It was a really b-big horse."

Olive snorted "Maybe to a ten year old," she said, laughing. Alfredo laughed awkwardly and scratched at his jacket sleeve. Olive smiled, "Aw, I'm sorry," she said, still laughing as she stood on her toes once more and kissed Alfredo soundly.

As the pulled away Mr. McD emerged leading one horse, with a stable boy walking out behind him, leading another. Olive felt a rush of adrenaline surge through her at the sight of the horses they would be riding. "We've got two mares for ya today," Mr. McD said as he approached. "Thelma and Louise."

"They're beautiful," Olive said in awe, the last time she had been this close to a horse seemed like a millennia ago.

"Generally we'd wait around to make sure ya got on your way alright," Mr. McD said, looking at Olive. "But Alfredo here tells me you've have quite the riding experience. So we'll leave ya too it."

Olive smiled appreciatively. "Thank you."

"Just know that that path there leads towards the wood, there's a small place to tie 'em up if ya feel like going for a small hike," Mr. McD explained as Olive stepped forward, lightly stroking Thelma's neck. "Just don't stay out longer than two hours. The Misses begins to worry," he said with a wink.

Alfredo took a cautious step towards Olive and Thelma, then another. Olive continued to stroke Thelma's neck, watching Alfredo out of the corner of her eye. "We'll be back in two hours sharp."

"Have fun you two," Mr. McD said handing Olive Thelma's reigns while the stable boy handed Alfredo Louise's. With a smile and nod the two left.

Alfredo's breathing began to increase to rapid, short breaths. His free hand shot to his jacket pocket, searching for his mood enhancer, as Louise nuzzled his head with her snout.

Olive's free hand shot out, stopping Alfredo's search. She threaded their fingers together, squeezing his hand with a soft force. Alfredo let out a shaky breath as Olive's gentle touch calmed him.

"Come on, let's get going," Olive said, with a kind smile. "I refuse to waist any minute of our two hours." She walked around to the left side of Thelma and hoisted herself into the saddle.

"Right," Alfredo said uneasily, standing at Louise's side.

"Just put your foot in and pull yourself up," Olive instructed.

With a nod Alfredo did as he was told. Olive tried not to laugh as Alfredo struggled to pull himself onto the Louise's back. He held on awkwardly, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Olive continued to giggle, almost expecting Alfredo to have ended up backwards. "Onward we go," Olive said brightly, leading the way as they rode towards the wood.

* * *

"You did what?" Alfredo asked, shocking but laughing nonetheless.

Olive scuffed her foot on the ground, almost tripping as they continued to walk. The wood around them swirled to life as the wind picked up once again. "We set rats loose in her kitchen," she mumbled again, louder this time.

Alfredo choked on his laughter. "I can't believe you did that."

Olive sighed nervously, but laughed lightly. She didn't know why she had told Alfredo about the feud between Bittersweets and The Pie Hole. They had been talking; they're conversation flowing with ease from one subject to another. And then suddenly she was telling him about the breaking and entering rat incident. The truth had slipped from her lips before she had even realized what they were talking about.

And so here she was feeling horribly embarrassed as her boyfriend continued to laugh.

"Well!" she defended, as Alfredo helped her over a log that had fallen in the path. "It was do or die! She was eating us alive; damned if we do or damned if we don't."

Alfredo chuckled again. "A real Prisoner's Dilemma."

"A what?" Olive asked, stopping.

"A Prisoner's Dilemma," Alfredo said, pulling Olive along until she was walking again. "It's a plea bargain of sorts."

"Oh don't make stuff up."

"I'm not making it up," Alfredo said with a smile.

"Then-a-do ex-pah-lain," Olive said making Alfredo laugh even more.

"Well—imagine we're two thieves who have committed large scale, armed, bank robberies."

"How is this explaining?"

"I'm explaining by example," Alfredo retorted. "So imagine we're two bank robbers."

"Can we be Bonnie and Clyde?" Olive asked, a childish enthusiasm ringing in her voice.

"Didn't they die?" Alfredo asked with a smile.

"Yes, we'll still be Bonnie and Clyde, except we'll live."

Alfredo laughed. "Okay, we're Bonnie and Clyde, we live, but then we get caught by the police."

"The fuzz catches us?" Olive asked in disgust. "I'd rather we die then!"

"Well, they've arrested us; however it's only on the suspicion that we've committed our crimes. They have little proof, so the need us to confess." Alfredo said, looking sideways at Olive. Her attention was only for him and she wasn't paying attention to the path; trusting him to guide her. He squeezed her hand and continued his scenario: "They take us to separate investigation rooms and we're not allowed to speak to each other at all. You with me?"

Olive nodded. "Then what?"

"The deputy questions you first. He tells you that if you confess and turn me in you will be let go and I will face all consequences alone."

Olive laughed. "Well sorry Clyde. But I'm turning you in. I'll build us a house in the Bahamas that we can live in once you make parole." Olive realized she had implied them living together a beat too late and felt her entire body flushed. "I don't see the dilemma in that," she said, quickly recovering.

Alfredo chuckled. "Well—he then goes on the tell you that once he leaves this room he is going to go offer me the same ultimatum. So if you confess and I don't, you get off free. If I confess and you don't I get off free. But, if we both confess, he has two criminals who just confessed on his hands and we'll both get locked away. But our sentence will be lessened for confessing. Hence—the Prisoner's Dilemma."

"I don't like this story, I don't like it at all," Olive said, indignantly.

"So what would you do?"

"What would _you_ do?" Olive countered.

Alfredo shook his head. "I asked first."

Olive thought for a moment, listening to the chirping birds before she responded. "Take some of your mood enhancers and hope to hell it all turns out for the best."

Alfredo laughed, bringing the Olive's hand that was clasped in his own to his lips and kissing the top of it lightly. "Come on Bonnie, our two hours visiting time are up."

Olive smiled and allowed Alfredo to pull them towards the tethered Thelma and Louise. The wind picked up again; Olive deciding it was as good as an excuse as any to snuggle into Alfredo's side and wrap herself in her warm embrace.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And there's chapter 13! We've reached the final stretch y'all. Only 3 or 4 more chapters left. Let me know what you think!!

Thanks for reading and reviewing! It's muchly appreciated!

Until next time!


	14. Fourteen:In the Dark,Cold Dead of Winter

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies. Woe is me.

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Fourteen: In the Dark, Cold Dead of Winter**

The season is fall, though the month is December when everyone thinks winter to be the actual weather. With snow on the ground and lights up in trees, it has now been nine months, one week, three days, and twenty hours, plus the time it takes to sneeze…

Olive Snook walked into Dempsa's Dining Diner with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. The early December air was chipper and cold, making the warmth of the diner a welcome. She shrugged off her coat and folded it over her arm. From her spot behind the counter, Dempsa smiled as she served another customer their dinner. Olive waved and pointed to an empty booth, Dempsa nodded. Olive smiled a thank you and sat down, setting her purse and coat in the corner of the booth seat. With a happy smile and sigh, she waited for Alfredo to join her.

* * *

Ten minutes gone and Alfredo Aldarisio had yet to show.

Olive sighed and rapped her fingers atop the table, her chin resting in her free hand. She waited a few seconds before blowing a tuft of hair out of her face. This was getting ridiculous. As the days went on, the more Olive and Alfredo saw each other the more Alfredo was late. At first, it worried Olive. Alfredo was never late. But now—now it was becoming habit. Though he was usually only late by five or ten minutes, the constant happening began to leave Olive impatient.

"Sorry I'm late." Olive jumped at the sounds of Alfredo's voice, snapping her from her thoughts. Olive focused on the world around her just as Alfredo sat down across from her.

"Where were you?" she asked, as the man got situated in his seat.

"Work ran a little later than I thought," Alfredo explained, coughing awkwardly yet smiling. Olive frowned at the explanation she received every time. "I made the mistake of trying to sell to an elderly gentleman who was set on telling me his life story."

Olive laughed quietly at the extended explanation, at least this time she was given a reason as to why work was keeping him.

"About time you got here, boy," Dempsa said, approaching the table. Olive laughed quietly and Alfredo laughed awkwardly.

"Unruly customers," Olive explained.

Dempsa winked. "What do you two want to drink?"

Alfredo looked to Olive. "Coffee," she answered.

"I'll have the same," Alfredo added.

Dempsa nodded. "Back in a jiffy."

"Uh—speaking of my job," Alfredo said, looking down at his crossed hands on the table.

Olive tilted her head before realizing what Alfredo was about to say. "You have to go away again, don't you?" She asked, quietly.

Alfredo sighed and nodded.

"When do you leave?"

Alfredo shifted nervously. "That's just it—I leave December twenty-fourth."

"What?!" Olive nearly yelled, earning her strange looks from the diner occupants. Normally Olive would have blushed but at this exact moment she didn't care. "You're leaving Christmas Eve?"

Alfredo nodded somberly.

"B-b-but it's Christmas Eve!" she exclaimed albeit quietly. And suddenly she sobered, looking into her lap. When she spoke next it was quiet and meek, "I was hoping we would be able to spend Christmas together."

"Me too," Alfredo said sadly. "But I have to go. Plus, I won't leave until that night, so we can spend all day together."

Olive nodded and sighed. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'll be gone until January twenty-fourth."

"A month?" Olive asked, through gritted teeth. Alfredo nodded sadly. "So you'll be gone for New Year's too?"

Alfredo sighed. "Yes."

"Isn't there anyway you can wait?" Olive pleaded.

Alfredo shook his head. "I've been putting off going back out for too long," he said, smiling kindly. Olive blushed. "If I don't go then it will cause some problems."

Olive nodded once more, feeling an ache build with in her. "You'll be back January twenty-fourth?" Olive asked in conformation.

Alfredo nodded. "January twenty-fourth; seven-thirty on the dot, I promise."

Olive smiled slightly. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

T'was the day before Christmas and all through the city, last minute shoppers were trying to keep busy. Olive Snook stood outside her boyfriend's front door, a place she had been a few times before. With a basket in her hands and a hat on her head, she gave a quick knock and counted 'till ten…

Olive looked around the hallway of Alfredo's apartment complex as she stood outside the door, making popping noises. She felt ridiculous and nervous, but excited nonetheless; though she could not explain why she was at the exact spot at this exact moment. Alfredo was leaving that night, for his month away, and they had planned to meet later and spend the majority of the afternoon together.

Five minutes after making their plans, Olive had been hit by a stroke of genius. Instead of sticking to their original plan, Olive made her usual Christmas breakfast, that she cooked for herself every year, and was surprising Alfredo at his apartment at nine o'clock in the morning.

As the seconds ticked by and Alfredo still hadn't answered the door, Olive felt her mind begin to wander.

She felt odd, really. Since moving to the city Olive had spent every Christmas alone—by choice of her own. She used the day as a personal sanction, enjoying old holiday movies while eating feasts and pies she made for herself. She never felt lonely; rather, she felt at peace and calm—celebrating the holiday in her own personal way.

And yet, this holiday season Olive found herself yearning to not spend this holiday alone, but rather with Alfredo. She wanted to share the special day with him, where family and loved ones gathered in celebration of life and hope. Pim had tried to convince Olive to go home with her and spend the holiday with their family. Olive declined out of fear of how her family would react to her presence, but mainly for the sole fact that she wished to spend the holiday with Alfredo.

A few more seconds passed before Olive realized that Alfredo had yet to open the door. Her brow furrowed and she tucker her bottom lip beneath her teeth; she knocked again. Seconds passed as she began to rock on her heels, she continued to make popping noises.

"What are you doing here?" A voice chuckled, from behind Olive.

The woman jumped, nearly dropping the basket she held. She turned to see an amused Alfredo standing before her.

"Don't do that to me!" She said, clutching at her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Alfredo chuckled and stepped forward, placing a small kiss on Olive's forehead. Her heart merely raced faster. "I'm sorry," he chuckled.

"And where did you come from? It's nine in the morning," Olive asked as she caught her breath.

"I had a work thing I had to take care of."

"But you're going away tonight."

"Which is why I had to get it taken care of before I left," Alfredo said with a nod and smile. "Now what are you doing here?" He was amused and his smile widened.

"Surprising you," Olive replied with a smile, as she held out the basket she held.

"With—a picnic?"

"No, with my famous Christmas breakfast," Olive said triumphantly. "That has now been made into a Christmas Eve breakfast."

"What happened to meeting later?" Alfredo asked amused.

Olive shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, you're going away for a month; I figured a few more hours together wouldn't hurt."

Alfredo smiled, "No, it won't hurt at all," he said. "Shall we go inside?"

Olive nodded. "Even though it's colder than ice cream in Antarctica, I don't think the ice packs keeping this will last much longer."

"It's a cold breakfast?" Alfredo asked, digging for his key and unlocking the door.

Olive shook her head. "I had to make most of it last night; I'm going to have to take over your oven."

Alfredo smiled. "That's no problem," he said, opening the door and standing aside to let Olive entered.

"Oh no," Olive said, grabbing Alfredo's arm and pulling him closer. She dug into her coat pocket pulling out a single piece of mistletoe. She held it up above her head, straining on her toes to make it reach above Alfredo's. The man chuckled nervously and grabbed the mistletoe holding it above both of their heads before bending and kissing Olive soundly.

Olive melted into the kiss, feeling the basket she was holding begin to slip from her fingers. Regretfully, she pulled away from Alfredo, getting a better hold on the basket. She smiled lazily. "I hope you know how horribly domestic this makes me feel," she whispered.

Alfredo was about to respond when Olive's stomach gave a loud growl, making Alfredo smirk and Olive blush.

"Hungry?" He asked, pulling Olive inside the apartment.

"I've been preparing food all morning," Olive defended. "Like I said, 'horribly domestic'."

With a laugh and a closing of the door, Olive and Alfredo started their Christmas celebration.

* * *

The minutes ticked by, celebration was far and near, as people 'round the world brought in the New Year. Large and small were the celebrations, all of them muddled with by alcohol sedation. But Olive Snook didn't party and there was no sedation, she merely talked on her phone with a quiet elation…

"I don't understand the dropping of the ball," Olive said, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

"Why not?" Alfredo asked from the other end of the line.

"Well, it's the celebration of the New Year. And dropping a ball almost seems likes a sort of destruction. I mean, every time I drop something it's never good," Olive explained, practically seeing Alfredo's smile. "Now, on the other hand--fire, signifies life and rebirth. So if they had a demonstration of fire—well, that would make more sense."

"Demonstration of fire?" Alfredo asked. "Are you suggesting they blow something up?"

"No!" Olive defended, laughing. "Just--something more along the lines of the Olympic torch—a lighting of sorts."

"But then the Lighting of the Olympic Torch wouldn't be as special."

"Must you make this difficult for me?" Olive asked, indignantly. Were she a five-year-old child she would have stamped her foot.

"My apologies," Alfredo said. Olive could tell he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"This is it," Alfredo said. Olive looked to her television screen, realizing that the last twenty-seconds of the New Year were ticking by. "There goes the ball."

"I'm telling you—should be fire."

"Ten."

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Happy New Year, Olive."

"Happy New Year, Fredo." From where she sat, alone on her bed, Olive Snook closed her eyes and imagined she was kissing one Alfredo Aldarisio.

Olive smiled.

* * *

The morning of January Twenty-Fourth was chipper and cold, most people stayed inside from the weather that was bold. The wind blew crisp in the January air and the snow softly fell, a beautiful flare. Though all was calm a storm seemed to be brewing, one that would have a quiet undoing…

Pim Madison walked across the street from Bittersweets to The Pie Hole. She was wrapped in a parka that was too big for her but supplied the warmth she needed. She grumbled incoherent mumblings about her job at Bittersweets and how much she hated it. The wind picked up and she ducked into her coat, allowing only her eyes to peak over the top.

Just ahead of her she could see a man standing on the curb, just outside The Pie Hole looking in. Pim moved to her right slightly to avoid the man and walk around him. She skipped up onto the curb and slipped, momentarily forgetting about the ice. She was about to go around the man and open the door, when the man took a step as her turned, colliding with Pim. The movement caused Pim to fall to the icy cement while the man stayed standing.

"Hey, watch it!" Pim said furiously, pulling at her parka so she could speak.

The man looked down at her, as if noticing her for the first time. Pim was momentarily taken aback by the intensity of his blue eyes. "Sorry," he said distractedly. He turned back to The Pie Hole.

Pim huffed at his lack of offer to help her off the ground. She fumed as she got up, brushing snow from herself and nursing a sore hip. With a resentful glare and her chin in the air, Pim threw the door of The Pie Hole open and stalked inside.

Olive looked up as the door opened; watching as her cousin stomped in; mumbling to herself.

"What's wrong?" she asked as her cousin approached.

Pim ripped off her parka and threw it on a nearby stool before she sat down. "Stupid jerk out there ran into me. I fell down and he didn't even care."

Olive looked outside. "Who?"

"That creepy guy looking inside."

"What guy?"

Pim turned to see that the man had disappeared. "What a creeper. He was standing outside just looking in."

Olive shrugged. "Well he's gone, now."

* * *

The time read seven twenty-five on the night of the twenty-fourth; Olive Snook was excited for all of it's worth. In a few simple minutes Alfredo would return, he would knock on her door with a smile full of yearn. Five simple minutes is all it would take not a second sooner or a second too late…

Olive sat on her couch, curled in a blanket with her feet tucked under her. A book lay open in her lap and she did the best she could to read. However, try as she might the words would not reach her. Despite herself, Olive's eyes kept straying to the clock on her wall.

Olive could never remember a time when she had wished for someone to return as much as she wished for Alfredo's return right now. For years, Olive had spent the holiday season alone and it didn't bother her nor did she care. After all, with being away from her family and having a boss/friend like Ned, ending up alone on holidays was bound to happen. But this year, after spending the holidays alone when she _could_ have been spending it with Alfredo, she realized why people cherished spending their holidays with someone. She began to recall what it had been like when she was a child and yearned to recreate it once more.

Olive smiled. It was approaching a year. One year of being with Alfredo. Olive couldn't believe it. It had gone so fast and yet so slow, and yet it was all wonderful. Had you asked Olive a year ago that she would be here in this exact moment, she wouldn't have believed it. And yet, here she was. Oh--how she had changed in a year.

Olive rolled her head to the side, looking at her calendar. January Twenty-Fourth was circled in a bright pink pen. Olive frowned. She had marked the calendar for Alfredo's return; yet, Olive felt a certain, dreadful pulling in her gut. As though this day meant much more than Alfredo's return and though she tried Olive couldn't pinpoint the nagging feeling.

Olive sighed and brushed the feeling off, she would not ruin this night because of something she couldn't place.

A knock sounded at the door.

Olive jumped up from the couch and threw the blanket down, nearly tripping over it in the process. She all-but ran to the door, throwing it open without looking through the peep-hole; for she knew who waited for her on the other side of the door.

And that had been Olive Snook's first and only mistake…

Standing in the hall, waiting for her to answer was not the man she had been expecting. Olive felt her jaw drop and her breath hitch, the word "impossible" breathed from her lips. Olive stared in horror as her blood ran cold and the color drained from her face. She tried to think and comprehend what was happening. She grasped at the door knob and steadied herself from falling.

…for nothing could have prepared Olive Snook for the sight of Jonah Burke standing at her door.

* * *

**Author's Note:** cues dramatic Daisies music. Well! I hope you liked the new chapter! I don't know when I'll be updating again, but it'll be up as soon as I can get it!

Thank to all of those who reviewed! I REALLY appreciate it! Thanks!

Until next time!!


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Horror

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pushing Daisies…wish I did…but I don't…

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Fifteen: Horror**

Olive Snook was quite certain that she was dead. She couldn't breath. Her heart did not race. She simply stood unmoving and blank. And yet, if she was dead, she was not in a happy place. This was a very bad place. Very, very bad. Yes, if she was dead then this was hell. It was the only explanation. She had just gone to hell, in a hand basket, with "Kick Me I'm Stupid" written across her forehead. For, it appeared, that someone somewhere was mirthfully making Olive the object of some cruel joke. That was the only explanation.

Olive simply started, unable to move or think. A small voice inside of her was telling her to scream. But her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't form a comprehendible thought. Her mouth opened to say something but no words came out. She closed it.

Jonah Burke waited for Olive to say something. But when she made no move at all and simply stared at him with a look of horror across her face, he decided to speak first. "Hello Olive," he said quietly. Olive began to shake. She opened her mouth to respond but no words came out; her mouth remaining open.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," Jonah spoke again. Olive didn't move. She felt the muscles in her neck twitch, trying to nod her head, but she made no movement. Jonah sighed. "Look can I come in and talk to you?" As he spoke, Jonah took a small step forward. And though it was a miniscule step, the little movement was enough to snap Olive from her shocked stupor.

"Don't you come near me!" Olive yelled, jumping back.

Jonah smiled slightly, "Or you'll use all sorts of fung-kwan-do-fu on me?" Jonah Burke chuckled. Olive Snook did not. Jonah sighed. Olive stared.

"What are you doing here, Jonah?" she asked, crossing her arms, her voice bitter and tired.

"I want to talk to you," Jonah said, obviously.

Olive sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples. "I mean—How are you here? You're supposed to be—."

"Locked away for a good long time?" Jonah asked, the corner of his mouth twitching. Olive could tell he was suppressing his all too characteristic smirk.

"Yes," Olive bit out, in no mood for the games he played. "So please, do explain."

Jonah sighed. "My sentence was reduced to begin with because I turned in my partner."

"You worked with someone else?"

Jonah nodded, beginning to look uncomfortable. A stance Olive had only seen him take once before. "He was the one who actually moved the money. I was the one who got all of the information."

"I should have guessed you weren't capable of being smart enough to do it all by yourself," Olive snapped, as a fiery rage of contempt began to rumble through her.

"And--," Jonah continued, ignoring Olive's jab. "I was let out early for good behavior." Olive scoffed. "But not without a hefty parole."

"Which I'm sure you're breaking by being here," Olive said.

Jonah smirked. "Probably."

Olive rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here, Jonah?" She paused. "Or Calvin Clawsnip or whatever the hell that guy said your name was."

Jonah laughed. "Calvin Crawford," He said, holding out his hand in introduction.

Olive looked at the hand with narrowed eyes. "_Jonah_," she said bitterly. Jonah Burke had been the man who broke Olive's heart, and so he would remain that way. If she called him by any other name, Olive felt it would make him different and different person, who could hurt her once more. And so Jonah Burke he would remain. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you, of course."

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to anything you have to say," Olive said, narrowing her gaze and tightening her arms across her chest.

Jonah sighed and lowered is head, in frustration. He rubbed his temple before looking at Olive once more. "I have no reason. Quite honestly, you shouldn't."

Olive rolled her eyes. "I shouldn't? That's you're reason?"

Jonah shook his head. "I just told you, I have no reason. You shouldn't, but--," Jonah's words trailed off, though they both knew what he was going to say.

Olive sighed and rubbed her eyes, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her. She removed her hands and focused, sighing when Jonah was still standing before her. Jonah was right, she shouldn't listen to him. And yet—Olive groaned. She looked at her watch. 7:26, had it really only been one minute since she had been sitting on her couch? She groaned again. "You've got four minutes, Burke. And so help me if you're not out of this apartment by seven-thirty, I'll throw you over the balcony." Olive turned on her heel and walked into her apartment, not waiting (or caring) if Jonah followed.

Olive Snook was the cat and she was certain curiosity was about to do her in.

Jonah let out a long, slow breath before following Olive inside. He pushed the door closed behind him. Both occupants of the room were so lost in their own thoughts, wondering were the following conversation would lead them, that they failed to notice the door didn't close all the way—remaining open, if only by a quarter of an inch.

* * *

Alfredo Aldarisio was a happy man.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and pulled out some change, as the woman across the counter readied the bouquet he had ordered. His hands shook slightly and he took in deep, calming breaths; though he smiled nonetheless. His heart was pounding with excitement and nervousness swelled in his soul. And yet the smile never wavered.

Alfredo Aldarisio's mixed state of emotional panic and excitement was due to one single fact. Tonight, when he walked into Olive's apartment after not seeing her for a month, he was going to tell her the one thing he had known since he had first laid eyes on her.

Alfredo Aldarisio was going to tell Olive Snook that he loved her.

Alfredo had refrained some saying the words before, nervous of what Olive's reaction would be. And yet, after so much time, Alfredo could no longer contain the words to himself. He wanted to let Olive know how much she meant to him, and so he had decided that it was now or never. Though he supposed that if he didn't tell her now, the "never" would really be "eventually". But a now or never attitude was more of a push than a now or eventually attitude. So it was now or never.

"Here you go," the woman behind the counter said, handing the bouquet of daisies and roses over to Alfredo.

"Thank you," he said, taking the flowers. He handed her the bill. "Keep the change." The clerk smiled widely at the extra money she would be keeping.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem." Alfredo Aldarisio was in a generous mood. "Have a good night."

"You too!" the clerk called after him, as Alfredo left the shop.

With a smile in his heart and a grin on his face, Alfredo Aldarisio walked to Olive Snook's apartment.

* * *

"How did you know my real name?" Jonah asked, walking into Olive's apartment.

Olive turned. "I was asked to testify against you."

Jonah quirked his brow, clearly amused. Olive scoffed, he really hadn't changed. "Why didn't you?" the man asked.

"Quite honestly I never wanted to see you again," Olive replied casually.

Jonah smirked. "It appears I've ruined that."

"It would seem so," Olive replied, rolling her eyes. "You do realize you're wasting your four minutes with this idle chit-chat."

Jonah sighed. "Right."

They lapsed into silence.

"Well?"

Jonah sighed, suddenly sobering in a way Olive had only seen once before. "Do you remember the night that--," he paused, looking uncomfortable. "That last night?"

Olive paled suddenly realizing why she had felt a sense of dread when she looked at her calendar mere minutes ago. One year. One year to the day. How could she not have noticed? "Yes," Olive said tightly, her face an uncontrollable look of how-could-I-have-forgotten?

"No, I mean—before Ned and Chuck and Emerson showed up. When we were eating dinner."

Olive turned slightly and looked at her table. The empty seats suddenly filled with ghost like images of herself and Jonah, talking and enjoying a dinner; both oblivious of to what would happen an hour later.

She pulled her view from the table, looking back to Jonah. "What about dinner?"

"Do you remember--when—when I asked you if you had any regrets about your life?"Olive looked to the table once more, seeing herself and Jonah talking as the words of the conversation began to fill her ears:

_"No," she said. "I believe everything in life happens for a reason, good or bad, and we learn from our mistakes. And if what I take away from a bad situation makes me a better, stronger person, then it really wasn't bad to begin with."_

_Jonah nodded but stayed silent, taking a long drink of wine._

_"Would you?" Olive asked when Jonah remained silent."Change anything?"_

_Olive stared intently at the man across from her as he looked just over her shoulder at the flowered wall behind her. It seemed like Jonah wasn't moving and Olive had to concentrate just to make sure he was still breathing. After a moment, Jonah's eyes shifted down until they were piercing Olive's. Her breath caught._

_"Yes," Jonah finally answered. _

_"Why?"_

_Jonah sighed and put his arms on the table, leaning forward. "I want to know the things I've done before didn't happen in vein or because I made one lapse in judgment…" Jonah paused and seemed to decide if he should continue on. "…W—When I die. I want to know that there was at least someone out there, just one person, who forgave me and that simple forgiveness is enough."  
"Hey," Olive said, reaching across the table and taking Jonah's hand in her own. "What are you going on about? What brought all this on?" _

_Jonah smiled sadly and shook his head. "A conversation for another time," he said._

"Yes," Olive said quietly, tearing her eyes from the table and looking to Jonah once more.

"I want you to be that person, Olive," Jonah said, looking Olive in the eyes for the first time since his return.

Olive shuddered. "You want me to be what person?"

"I want you to be that one person who forgives me."

Olive scowled and she crossed her arms once more, breaking her gaze from Jonah's. "Did you ever think that, maybe, I don't want to forgive you?"

Jonah sighed and took a step forward. Olive took a step back. "Olive you should know that, in all the time we spent together, I never lied to you."

Olive scoffed and her jaw dropped. "Oh please! Jonah, the entire time you spent here was a lie!" Her fists clenched and her face reddened.

"Well maybe in the large scale sense," Jonah quickly defended. "But everything I told you, everything we ever talked about and shared. It was the truth. I swear to you."

Olive groaned, digging her nails into her palm. "Why should I believe that?"

"Because--," Jonah sighed. "You did something to me Olive. You affected me in a way no one else has before."

Olive rolled her eyes, "Don't play some movie hero who has now seen the error of his ways because of a woman," she said. "It's nauseating."

"But it's true."

Olive closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. This was not happening. This stuff only happened in the movies. That was the rule. It was all fictional. Something like this could never happen in real life. And yet here Olive was, standing in the middle of it all. She waited for the cameras to appear and a director to call "cut". It never came.

"Do. Not. Toy. With. Me. Jonah." Olive said, her voice beginning to waver in frustration.

"But it's true. Olive, you—you changed me."

Olive gagged. "Don't sound cliché."

Jonah sighed in frustration, trying to get his point across. "It is all cliché, I'll admit. But it's the truth. Olive my feelings for you were—are—real. You got to me in a way no one had before. I wasn't even going to move any of The Pie Hole's money. I was going to call, but then I got caught. I promise you, I was going to."

Olive grabbed at her hair and pulled, closing her eyes and suppressing a scream. "Stop it! Just stop it!!" She looked up to Jonah, burning him with her fiery gaze. "I refuse to put up with your games Jonah."

"They aren't games!" Jonah said, silently cursing with frustration. "What the hell do I have to do to prove to you that I'm telling the truth?"

"I don't care about your truth, Jonah. I don't. I don't. I don't!" Olive said, trying to do her best from screaming. "I'm happy, Jonah. Truly happy for the first time in a _long_ time and I refuse to let you come in here and ruin it!"

Jonah paused and smirk slowly covering his face. "So you're involved with someone else?" Olive's death glare was the only confirmation she gave him. "Finally win over the heart of our dear Pie Maker?"

Olive's hand twitched, aching to slap Jonah. He saw the movement and his brow raised. Olive clenched her fist tighter. "No," she said through clenched teeth.

"So you've found someone else?"

"Apparently."

"Then answer me this, Olive." Olive looked up, holding her chin high, waiting for Jonah's question. "How do you know this mystery man isn't doing the exact same thing I was?"

Olive froze her entire body seized by fear, as her one insecurity wrapped around the core of her soul. Alfredo going away for lengths at a time, finding someone else. Someone who was smarter than she, prettier than she, funnier than she. Playing and using Olive just like Jonah had played and used her before.

And yet, a voice broke through, small but strong fighting to be heard over her fear. Alfredo. It was Alfredo. He would never, in a million and ten years, do anything of that sort. He was Alfredo; kind, sweet, wonderful Alfredo.

Olive took in a deep breath, her fists clenching even more. No doubt, she was beginning to draw blood. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, Jonah. Don't you dare," she said, "Alfredo may be a salesman, but you're the crook."

"He's a salesman?" Jonah's eyes lit like a kid's in a candy store. "Does he travel much?" Olive turned her head indignantly, refusing to answer. Jonah took that as a yes, his eyes lighting more. "So he does."

"So what?" Olive bit. "Like I said, he's not the bad person here. _You_ are."

Jonah sighed, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Olive, please."

"Please what?" Olive asked. "What do you want from me, Jonah? You're beginning to give me a headache."

"I want your forgiveness."

"Why? Why should I give it to you?" Olive asked, taking a step foreword and poking him in the chest. "After everything you've done, do you honestly expect me to believe the rubbish you've been spewing?"

Jonah sighed in frustration. "It's not rubbish. What do I have to do to make you believe that?"

"Leave." Olive bit.

"No." Jonah bit back.

They stood toe to toe, both of their faces fuming.

"You're infuriating." Olive said her voice low and menacing.

Jonah smirked, "I guess some things never really change."

Olive groaned in frustration and pushed on Jonah's chest to get him away. Instead, Jonah grabbed Olive's wrist, holding her still. "What Olive? What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?"

Olive sighed, weariness beginning to take hold of her. She pulled on her wrists, trying to free them from the man's grasp. "Jonah, please," she whimpered, beginning to tear from exhaustion.

"Olive," Jonah whispered. Olive looked up, her eyes pleading. Pleading with him to let her go. Pleading with him to walk away. Pleading. Just pleading. And yet, Jonah did nothing. If anything, he pulled her closer; his face angled down, his breath hitting her face.

Time seemed to stand still and Olive froze--unable to form a comprehensible thought. What was happening? What was happening? She couldn't move. She didn't know what was happening. What _was _happening? Her mind went blank as horror filled her body. This wasn't right; Move away, run away, scream. Something, anything. And yet she couldn't move. Horror. Pure horror.

Jonah's face moved closer and Olive's mouth went dry. Horror.

Olive Snook had forgotten how blue Jonah's eyes were.

Horror…

* * *

Alfredo Aldarisio clutched at the flowers he held; frightened they would fall from his grasp. He was nervous, her palms wet, and yet he couldn't stop smiling. He reached the top of the stairs and paused, looking down the hall to Olive's door. He reassured himself with a confident nod and walked down the hall. It was now or never.

He began down the hall, growing more confident and nervous with each step. His smile grew and his hands shook. And then he paused, standing in front of Olive's door before he knew it.

Taking in a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked. The small tapping pushed the door open and Alfredo paused. Odd. Olive's door was never left open. Maybe unlocked. But, she always closed it all the way, ensuring that the latch clicked shut. Fear took hold of Alfredo as he thought of something awful happening to Olive that would result in her door being left open, even if it was only slightly so.

Furrowing his brow, Alfredo pushed on the door more, opening it further. "Olive?" he asked tentatively, walking inside.

And that was when Alfredo Aldarisio froze. The bouquet he held slipped from his hand as he stared in a shocked stupor.

For there, standing before him was Olive and a man he had never seen before; standing close, very, very close. Too close. Alfredo watched in horror as the man moved closer, closing the small distance that was left between them and kissed Olive. Alfredo's blood ran cold.

Had Alfredo Aldarisio been any other man he would have walked over to the man, pulled him from Olive and punched him. But Alfredo Aldarisio was not any other man. He was, quite obviously, Alfredo Aldarisio. And Alfredo Aldarisio was not the punching type.

And that's when he noticed it.

Alfredo watched as Olive didn't move. She simply stood, allowing this strange man to kiss her. Alfredo's fists clenched as an anger he had never felt ran through his body. What was going on? Alfredo couldn't think and he didn't know what to do. He was shocked and mad. Mad that this man was kissing the woman he loved. And mad that Olive was appearing to do nothing about it. And shock—the shock explained itself.

Alfredo didn't know what to do and he couldn't think. So he did the only thing his body allowed him to do. He turned, fists clenched in a quiet anger, and marched from the room; slamming the door in his wake.

* * *

The slamming door was the one thing Olive Snook needed to bring her out of her horror filled shock. Her senses clicked into overdrive and she suddenly realized what was happening. Jonah was kissing her. _Jonah Burke. _Her mind reeled and she pushed Jonah away, furiously wiping at her mouth. What had been that noise? The door. Yes. But why had it slammed so? Olive's eyes scanned the apartment, refusing to meet Jonah's imploring look, trying to find the source of why the door had slammed.

Her eyes landed on the clock.

Olive felt the life leave her body.

7:31.

She blinked. A bouquet of flowers lay on the floor, just by the door.

7:31.

"Fredo," Olive breathed, panicked. No, it was impossible. And yet—No. He had been here. When Jonah had been--No. "Fredo."

"Olive?" Jonah asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Fredo," Olive whimpered, pushing passed Jonah and sprinting towards the door. "Fredo! Alfredo!!" She screamed, looking up and down the hall. She ran to the edge of the hall, peering over the balcony. "Fredo?!" she called, searching for any sign of him. And in the distance she saw him, storming away. "Alfredo!!" Olive called again. Alfredo paused. Olive felt her heart flutter. Alfredo's shoulders tightened and his fists clenched at his side; he continued on, not even looking back. "FREDO!" Olive called, her voice hoarse as she tried to get his attention. She pushed herself up, trying to find something so her feet could balance her as she leaned over the balcony.

Had she been in her right mind, Olive would have run down the hall and after Alfredo. But she was not in her right mind and so she continued to yell, leaning over the balcony; for it appeared to be the only way to get her Alfredo back. "FREDO! Alfredo please! Wait! FREDO!" She sobbed, as she leaned her entire torso over the balcony. "FREDO!"

"Are you insane?!" Jonah's voice yelled behind her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her from the ledge.

"Let me go!" Olive yelled, clawing at Jonah's arm. "Fredo!"

"I'm not going to let you go if you're going to throw yourself over that ledge," Jonah said wrestling with Olive to get her to calm down.

"Let me go!!" Olive yelled, her voice strained as she tried to get away.

"What's going on?" The Pie Maker and Chuck appeared in the hall, their shared apartment door standing open behind them.

At the sight of the two new comers Jonah let go of Olive. Olive stumbled forwards, Ned grabbing a hold of her before she fell.

"What's he doing here?" Chuck asked, her voice laced with horror.

Olive whirled around and took a menacing step forward. Ned and Chuck stood just behind her, on either side of her, like two guards. Tears fell down Olive's face, rushing like rapids in a storm. "Leave. Me. Alone." She said, to Jonah, her voice low and murderous.

"Olive--," Jonah tried to reason.

"Go away, Jonah. And so help me, if you ever come near me again, you'll wish you were locked away," Olive said, doing nothing to mask her hurt or her tears.

"Olive--." Jonah tried again.

"I suggest you do what she says," Chuck said, crossing her arms.

"Yes," the Pie Maker added.

Jonah sighed, lowering his head. "I'm sorry Olive," he said quietly. "I'm truly and deeply sorry." With one more look in Olive's icy direction Jonah Burke nodded and turned, leaving Olive and her life for the final time.

Once Jonah disappeared Olive sagged, Chuck and The Pie Maker rushing forward to catch her. "Olive what happened?" Chuck asked quietly.

"I—He—Alfredo," Olive whimpered. "Fredo."

Chuck sighed. "I'll take her," she said to the Pie Maker.

Ned nodded awkwardly, helping Chuck situate Olive in her arms before stepping away. "Let me know if you need anything."

Chuck nodded and smiled sadly, moving with Olive into the waitress's apartment. The girl name Chuck sighed wondering if consoling Olive Snook, while she cried for dear life, would become a habit on the night of January Twenty-Fourth.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And there's Chapter Fifteen! I hoped you like it! Let me know what you think!!

I won't be updating again for a while, as I'll be out of town. But I'll update as soon as I most possibly can!

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Until next time!


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Finding Fredo

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pushing Daisies…nope, nope, nope.

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Sixteen: Finding Fredo**

Olive Snook let Charlotte Charles lead her into her apartment; limply handing to the taller woman as tears fell in rapids down her face. She had lost control of her limbs, unable to move. Her heart raced in fear and her breaths came in short, spastic gasps. Her mind was blank, save for the fear of what Alfredo must have thought of her at this exact moment. She felt lifeless, a lower than low lifeless, but if she came back to the land of the living without Alfredo, Olive was certain she wanted to stay lifeless forever.

"Olive?" Charlotte Charles asked quietly, shaking the blonde's shoulder lightly.

Olive blinked, looking around in a daze. Somehow Chuck had maneuvered the tow of them into her room. Her teary eyes blurred her vision, making her green horse wallpaper a swirl of green and white; the colors blending and moving. Olive felt nauseous.

"Olive, what happened?" Chuck coaxed, trying to meet Olive's gaze.

Olive took in a deep shaky breath. She continued to blink, staring around her room. Her room. _Her _room. With Chuck. Room. Chuck. Her room and Chuck were far away, far too far away, fro Alfredo. Alfredo. The man who had just stormed from her apartment. Alfredo, who saw her kissing another man. Alfredo, who probably wanted nothing to do with her anymore. A fact Olive Snook could not accept. No, she _would_ not accept it. It could not be this way. She had to find Alfredo. She had to explain. Explain how it had been a mistake—a misunderstanding. How he had seen wrong. How he didn't understand. How _she _didn't understand.

Olive Snook had to move.

With a movement faster than a flash of lightening Olive jumped off the bed. "I have to go," she all but yelled, haphazardly stumbling towards the door. She almost fell but clumsily caught herself; her tears continued to fall, all but blinding her.

"Olive," Chuck called, jumping up from the bed as she grabbed Olive from behind.

As the taller woman's arms grabbed Olive, she felt herself panic. Not feeling Chuck's arms but Jonah's. Her eyes flashed and she no longer found herself in the safety of her room, but standing in the hall outside. It was not Chuck holding her back, but Jonah. Olive began to struggle.

"Let me go!" She sobbed her voice already hoarse from screaming. "Let me go!" She twisted and turned, hitting Chuck's arms and trying to pull away.

At first, Chuck's hold loosened, stunned by Olive's sudden assault to try and free herself. But after a quick beat, Chuck tightened her hold on the smaller woman; pulling her flush against her chest. Chuck began to feel tears hit her arm as Olive began to cry even harder than before.

"Jonah, let go of me!" Olive screamed, her confusion beginning to consume her.  
"Olive," Chuck whispered, her own voice cracking from confusion and the pain she heard in Olive's voice. "Olive it's me, Chuck. It's Chuck." Chuck did her best to keep her voice calm and sweet, making her tone as recognizable as possible. "It's Chuck. Chuck," she continued to repeat.

The cloud that muddled Olive's mind began to clear as Chuck continued to repeat her name. Chuck, not Jonah, Chuck. The hall way in front of Olive's eyes disappeared and she found herself in her room once more. And yet, instead of calming, her panic intensified; her assault on Chuck's arms doubled.

Chuck was shocked as Olive's struggle became ferocious. "Olive!" She gasped, trying to keep Olive still. "Olive calm down!"

"Chuck let me go!" Olive yelled, twisting violently. "I need to leave. Let go of me. I have to find Alfredo. Please. I have to find him."

Chuck sighed in frustration. In a desperate move, she used her entire being to turn herself and Olive around. Quickly, she let go of Olive and pushed her onto the bed before turning and sprinting to the door. She slammed the bedroom door shut and locked it, turning back to Olive and guarding the door.

"Chuck!" Olive screamed, standing and rushing to the door, trying to get around the taller woman to unlock the barrier keeping her from leaving. "Move! I have to find Alfredo!!"

"No," Chuck said, her voice cracking when she saw Olive's face. Pain and hurt and sadness and so many other things filled Olive's tear filled eyes.

"No?!" Olive screeched, grabbing at Chuck's shoulders to move her out of the way.

Chuck sighed again. She grabbed Olive's arms and held them at her sides as Olive became week as her body began to break under her distress. She pushed Olive backwards until the woman's legs hit the bed; her knees buckled and she sat; Chuck knelt before Olive, keeping a hold on her arms so she couldn't move.

"Chuck please," Olive begged her adrenaline induced strength fading. "Let me go, I need to find Fredo." Olive hung her head, sniffling loudly. Her tears continued to fall

"Olive," Chuck whispered gently. "Olive look at me." Olive sobbed and slowly raised her head, her face shining in the light of the room from her tears. Chuck's heart broke. "Olive I understand you need to find Alfredo. I don't know why, but I understand."

"Then let me go!" Olive screamed. Chuck looked to the loose hold she had on Olive's arms; it was all too easy for Olive to bolt at this exact moment, but she didn't. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes stared at the wall beyond Chuck's head, focusing on something Chuck couldn't see.

"Olive," Chuck said forcefully, she lightly shook Olive's arms. Olive's far away gaze moved from the wall to Chuck. "Olive I know you need to find Alfredo," she reiterated, "But you need to calm down. You can't leave in the state that you're in."

"I can do what ever I damn well please," Olive said defiantly.

"No, you can't," Chuck said. "If you want to leave right now, fine, but I'm coming with you."

"You're not going to come with me," Olive responded.

"Then you're not leaving. Olive, you're a mess and I can barely understand what you're saying."

"Thank you for those wonderful compliments, my self-esteem just sky rocketed," Olive retorted, hiccupping repeatedly at the end.

Chuck looked to the ground and let out a long breath. After a few seconds she looked back to Olive. Olive stared back, tired and sad. Chuck stood and straightened her shoulders, towering over the blonde. "You can't leave in the state you're in Olive. Something bad could happen to you and I won't be responsible for that," Chuck explained gently.

Olive stayed sitting for a moment before her resolve broke and she fell forward, burying her face into her knees and sobbing loudly. As Olive's crying intensified Chuck's shoulders sagged; quickly, she walked to the bed and sat down, rubbing Olive's back.

Ten minutes later Olive's sobbing turned into dry hiccups. Tears no longer fell down her face, though she wished to go on crying. Her body simply stopped producing the tears, unable to do so anymore. With a cough she pushed herself up until she was sitting again, furiously wiping at her face, trying to clean it. Chuck stood from the bed and grabbed tissues before sitting down next to Olive once more.

"Thank you," Olive said, hiccupping as she took a proffered tissue. She wiped at her face then nose before grabbing two more tissues and continuing the process. When she was done she threw the tissues across the room into the trash bin, surprised that they actually landed in the receptacle. Her face was still damp, her nose still runny, and her eyes still puffy, but with the majority of her tears cleared Olive felt like she could breath a little easier.

Olive sighed and looked down to her hands. She twiddled her fingers, not knowing what else to do.

Chuck watched Olive closely, waiting to see what she was going to do. But she did nothing; she simply sat, looking forlorn and defeated. Chuck bit her lower lip, wondering what to do. The clock on the wall ticked, its quiet noise suddenly sounding like a sonic boom. After a minute Chuck spoke, not knowing what else to do. "Olive, what happened?"

Olive sighed. "I-I don't know…" she said quietly, her voice trailing off.

"But—."

"No, I know. But I—don't." A dry sob escaped Olive.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Chuck asked, trying to coax answers out of her friend.

There was a pause when neither woman moved Olive simply stared at her hands and Chuck stared at Olive.

Slowly, Olive nodded.

Quickly and quietly Olive relayed the story to Chuck. She told of how she had been waiting for Alfredo. She told of Jonah showing up and their argument. Then she told of how Jonah had kissed her. And then her story became muddled as she told about Alfredo, her own confusion taking hold.

"So you don't if he saw you?" Chuck asked gently.

Olive's body shook. She felt like crying but her body refused to make any more tears. She shrugged. "I'm positive he did. He had to have. It was _just_ after seven-thirty and the door slammed. Besides, I saw him leaving. He wouldn't even turn around when I called after him."

"Maybe he didn't hear you and he was leaving because he forgot something."

Olive scoffed, had this been any other moment she would have rolled her eyes. "Don't try and sugar coat it, Chuck. He saw it," Olive snapped, immediately regretting her tone. "Sorry," she said, lowering her head.

Chuck smiled sadly, "It's okay."

"Will you let me leave now?" Olive asked quietly, shooting a sideways glance to the girl named Chuck.

Chuck suppressed a small bout of laughter. "Go," she said.

And Olive did.

* * *

Four hours later Olive Snook wearily walked into her apartment. She shut her apartment door and leaned her back against it, her head hitting it with a thud. She let out a long, slow breath feeling stress leave her body. Her moment of peace ended when she inhaled, the stress filling her body once more and increasing times ten. The process repeated, she would release her stress only to breathe it back in, feeling it increase every time.

She sighed.

Four hours of searching for Alfredo had ended in vain.

Olive had scoped the city, starting at Alfredo's apartment. She had spent at least an hour outside of Alfredo's apartment, alternating between knocking on his door and simply waiting; not knowing if he wasn't home or if he was just ignoring her. After an hour, Olive decided Alfredo wasn't there so she set off for a new location.

After that Olive set off for Boutique Boutique Way and its accompanying park. She walked the length of the alleyway and the park five times, searching every single nook and cranny of the small shopping area. She looked behind every tree in the park, getting caught up staring into the depths of the small pond. Each time she passed by Dempsa's Dining Diner Olive would stop, looking into the restaurant but not daring to enter. Every time she stepped towards the door Olive would freeze, feeling a small fear well inside her. So she would simply stare before walking on, too afraid to go inside the small establishment. She justified herself by saying it didn't matter whether she went inside or not, she could clearly see that Alfredo was not inside the restaurant so it was no matter if she didn't go in.

Olive then spent the next few hours driving around the city, passing by and searching through every imaginable place Alfredo may be. But each place became less likely than the next until Olive ended up, once again, at Alfredo's door. She pounded on the barrier for a half an hour until Alfredo's neighbor told her, kindly, to 'can it'. Deciding that Alfredo wasn't going to answer the door anytime soon, Olive set off for home.

And home she was.

Olive sniffled and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Knowing it was of no use she sighed and pushed away from the door, her foot hitting something on the ground. Olive paused and opened her eyes, looking to see what her foot had hit. She felt a sob build in her throat.

Lying at her feet was a beautiful bouquet of roses and lilies, one that she only assumed Alfredo had bought for her. With a shaky hand, Olive bent and picked up the bouquet. A small tear leaked from her eye as she took in deep breath, letting the smell of the flowers consume her. It was the most beautiful fragrance she had ever sensed. The two sweet aromas blended to make something unlike anything Olive had ever experienced before. Beauty was the only way to describe it and knowing that Alfredo had bought them just for her made their beauty multiply. Which, given her current predicament made Olive Snook break.

As fresh tears began to fall down her cheeks Olive walked into her bedroom. She haphazardly kicked off her shoes and climbed onto her bed, not caring to turn down the comforter. She curled into a ball, clutching the bouquet of flowers to her chest.

Quietly, Olive Snook cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Charlotte Charles let out a reassuring breath before raising her hand and knocking on Olive's door. There was a loud bang as something in Olive's apartment fell before a loud shuffling could be heard, before Chuck realized what was going on the door was thrown open and Olive was standing before her, huffing like she'd just run a marathon.

"Oh it's you," Olive said, her shoulders sagging.

"Thanks," Chuck replied with crooked smile.

Olive sighed. "I thought you might have been--," her voice trailed as a distant look appeared in her eyes. She shook her head lightly before turning and walking into the apartment, waiting for Chuck to follow.

"Still no sign of Alfredo?" Chuck asked, walking into the room and shutting the door. The two women walked to Olive's couch and sat down. Chuck noticed one of Olive's table chairs had been knocked over, no doubt the sound she had previously heard. Olive let the chair be, so Chuck let it be too since it appeared Olive didn't care the chair was knocked over.

Olive shook her head sadly. "No," she said quietly.

"You'll hear from him soon, Olive."

"Will I?" Olive asked, sounding frustrated and tired. "It's been a week, Chuck." And suddenly, her voice sounded fragile and scared. Chuck note of her friends curled in posture, deciding that she looked like a small, lost dog. "I wouldn't be surprised if I never hear from him again."

"Olive--," Chuck said, placing her hand atop Olive's shoulder.

"No," Olive said, standing up and shrugging off Chuck's hand. "I've been searching for him all week, Chuck. I go to his apartment; I go to all of his favorite places. I call him. I've driven up and down every street of this city five times. He isn't anywhere."

"Are you sure you've checked everywhere?"

Olive walked to her window, staring out into the late January day. Tomorrow would be the first day of February, her weary mind noted. "Yes," her mouth spoke. No—her brain said. "No," she amended. "There's one place, but--."

"But what?"

"I'm scared of what will happen if I go inside."

"Is this place filled with zombies and mummies?" Chuck asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Olive cracked a smile. "No," she said, shaking her head sadly. "But there's a woman who will bite my head off when she hears of what I did to Alfredo."

"You didn't do anything, Olive."

"I hurt him."

"No you didn't."

"Yes," Olive responded, defiantly, as if she were trying to convince herself, "I did."

"None of this was your fault. It was Jonah's."

At the mention of Jonah's name, Olive felt nauseous. She stared out her window, not caring if Chuck stayed or left. The only thing that mattered at the moment was finding Alfredo, who had seemingly disappeared from the face of the planet. No matter how many messages she left on his voicemail or how many notes she left at his door, Alfredo Aldarisio would not contact Olive Snook.

"Chuck?" Olive suddenly asked, not knowing why she had spoken or what she was going to say; only knowing that there was a question on the tip of her tongue that she needed answering.

"Yes?" Chuck asked quietly, taking a step forwards.

"Do you--have you ever--I mean," Olive sighed and looked down to her lap, clasping her hands. She looked back out the window. "Do you ever feel—lost?"

"Figuratively or literally?"

"Figuratively."

Chuck shrugged, though Olive couldn't see her. "I don't know, I suppose I do. Sometimes." Olive nodded at the answer she received. "Why?"

Olive shrugged, knowing Chuck was watching her. "I've always felt like I've been, I don't know--," Olive's voice trailed.

"Lost?" Chuck offered making Olive chuckle slightly.

"Like I've never belonged," Olive said instead, focusing her eyes on something in the distance. "Like no matter where I went and what I did I was always on the outskirts of things, even in the slightest of ways. I was the only female jockey, I tip-toe on egg shells around my family, and I don't think I need to delve too far into life at The Pie Hole."

Chuck felt a stab of guilt at Olive's words, knowing she was partly to blame for the last part. Though they had become friends, Chuck still kept a great deal of things from Olive. A great deal of things that both Ned and Emerson knew about that the poor waitress wished to know, but couldn't.

"And because of that I've always felt lost, I suppose. Always searching to find that one place where I'll never feel lost or alone anymore. And finally," Olive spoke again, interrupting Chuck's thoughts. "With Alfredo, I felt like all of that didn't matter. Because—," Olive paused, her breath hitching as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She cursed herself, so tired of the crying she had been doing. "Because when I was with Alfredo I felt--found." Olive looked to her hands again before looking over her shoulder to Chuck. "I sound like a hopeless romantic mess, don't I?"

Chuck smiled sadly, "No," she answered. At that moment, Chuck found herself identifying with Olive. All her life, Chuck had felt like she had been searching for something; which is why she had ended up on that cruise ship that fateful day. And now, she had been given a second chance at life by a single touch, allowing her to live a life she had never dreamed. And just like Ned had given Chuck a second chance, Alfredo had given Olive a second chance at something she had all but given up on…love.

"But I suppose it makes no matter anymore," Olive said, breaking through Chuck's thoughts once more. "I think it's time I hung up my saddle for good."

"You haven't fallen off the horse yet, Olive."

Olive turned until her entire body was facing Chuck. She smiled sadly. "But that's just it. It appears this time I've gone and jumped off myself."

* * *

Olive Snook stood in the dark cold. The wind whipped around her and snow fell in abundance. There would most likely be a blizzard by morning and if she didn't leave soon Olive had a feeling she would be stuck where she was; an idea she wasn't entirely comfortable with. She peered into the frosted glass of the establishment before her, having difficulty seeing through the fogged windows. She knew she should go inside, for it was probably the only place that would help her find Alfredo but—Olive felt fear a nausea rise in her.

A week and a half, no doubt enough time for Alfredo to get here before she had; especially doubled with the fact that she had been to coward before to go inside. Olive wanted nothing more than to find Alfredo and explain what had happened, but faced with walking through these doors Olive wanted nothing more than to go on standing in the cold.

_I don't want him to be hurt, Olive_

The words rung in Olive's mind like the sound of a church bell--clear and pure. Olive gulped nervously and fidgeted with her purse.

_I don't want to hurt him, Dempsa. And I won't._

Olive let out a shaky breath as her own words echoed in response. For, she knew that she had, in fact, done just the opposite. Right now Alfredo Aldarisio was who knew where all because Olive had hurt him.

Olive felt nauseous and sick and nervous and neurotic and she suddenly wished she had allowed Alfredo to give her one of his mood enhancers. The thought of Alfredo made Olive's running emotions intensify. She sighed.

Knowing what had to be done but scared of what would happen when she walked inside, Olive Snook opened the doors to Dempsa's Dining Diner.

* * *

The warmth that usually accompanied Dempsa's Dining Diner was absent as Olive stepped into the diner. Though she had a feeling the heater was running Olive felt nothing be coldness. She had the sudden urge to run back through the door, if only to get warmer, despite the winter weather outside.

The usually boisterous diner was empty, the only sound coming from a clanking in the kitchen. As the bell above the front door sounded, signaling a customer, the clanking stopped. Olive held her breath as footsteps could be heard coming around the corner.

"Now who would come here in this weather?" Dempsa could be heard muttering to herself before she appeared in front of Olive. The older woman froze at the sight of Olive Snook standing in her diner. But no sooner than the shock appeared on her fact did it disappear, replaced with a look of regard and loathing. Olive felt her stomach turn, Dempsa knew.

Olive let out her breath, her entire body shaking.

"Olive," Dempsa said. Olive winced at her tone of voice, the same tone Dempsa had first used when they had first met.

"H-H-Hiya Dempsa."

"Is there something you wanted?" Dempsa asked, crossing her arms.

"I was—um—wondering if I could talk to you…?" Olive said, looking anywhere that wasn't Dempsa, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on her face.

"About?" Dempsa's tone indicated that she knew exactly what Olive wanted to talk about.

"Alfredo," Olive said quietly, unable to say the name any louder.

There was a brief pause before Dempsa spoke, "I think you should leave."

The simple request that was actually more of a command broke through Olive's nerves. She took in a deep breath and stepped forward, feeling desperateness seep through her. "Dempsa, please," Olive said, her voice sounding more desperate than she felt. "I need to talk to him. I need to explain. I need to know where he is."

"What? Why he caught you kissing another man?—."

"Yes, it's not--."

"So you can break his heart again?"

"No! Dempsa--."

"I won't have it Olive—."

"Dempsa I swear I didn't--."

"I told you I wouldn't have anyone hurting him--."

"Please--."

"I won't stand for it--."

"Dempsa--."

"I won't."

The conversation of interrupting each other ended with Dempsa's final declaration. Olive felt words hitch in her throat not knowing what to do. Though Olive was of a small stature, under Dempsa's steady gaze Olive felt smaller than she ever had before.

"Dempsa, please," she said quietly, catching Dempsa's gaze and holding it. Her vision became bleary as distressed tears filled her eyes. "I didn't do this on purpose. It's a misunderstanding. You don't understand, Alfredo doesn't understand—_I _don't understand."

Dempsa's hard gaze softened as Olive continued to talk, scared and sympathetic of the lost look she saw in Olive's eyes. Olive jumped at her chance to make Dempsa listen.

"I told you I would never hurt him Dempsa, I did. And I know I have done just that. But I swear to youI didn't do this on purpose. I promise. If won't don't want to tell me where he is, fine. But please, just let me explain."

Dempsa regarded Olive for a moment, her gaze scrutinizing but sympathetic. Whether she liked to at admit it, at this moment or not, Dempsa's heart had grown fond of Olive Snook and the unadulterated worry she found in the younger woman's eyes was beginning to break her. She sighed and Olive felt the hope well in her, the first presence of such emotion in a long while.

"Fine," Dempsa said sighing. She pointed to a booth. "Go sit over there, I'll get us some tea."

Olive nodded enthusiastically, felling as though her head may fall off. She quickly walked to the booth Dempsa indicated.

"And Olive," Dempsa called. Olive turned to see Dempsa standing in the kitchen doorway. "Don't make me regret this."

"I'll try not to," Olive replied, quietly. Dempsa nodded and walked into kitchen, disappearing from sight.

Olive shook off her coat, getting tangled in the arms. When she was free she threw her purse and coat on the seat and sat down. She hastily took off her gloves and threw them down as well. Less than a minute later Dempsa reappeared, two steaming mugs of tea in each hand.

"Here," Dempsa said, setting a mug in front of Olive and sitting across from her. Olive smiled in appreciation but made no move to take the drink. "Well, warm up," Dempsa said, motioning with her hand as she took a sip of her own tea.

"How do I know you haven't tinkered with it?" Olive asked, raising a brow.

Dempsa let out a short, dry laugh. "I may be overprotective, Olive. But I'm not petty."

Olive shrugged and grabbed the mug, taking a drink.

"Now," Dempsa said, setting her mug down and leaning forward. "What do you have to say?"

Olive sighed and looked into her mug, letting the steam of the liquid hit her face. "Well, it's a long story, really."

"Well, it looks like it's going to be a long night," Dempsa said, pointing to the snow outside.

Olive sighed and took in a deep breath. "Last Christmas…"

Olive's story began.

* * *

"Then the next thing I realized was the slamming of the door. I pushed Jonah away and ran outside. I saw Alfredo leaving but he wouldn't even look at me when I called to him."

Thirty minutes later Olive's story ended. The entire time she had been talking she had stared into the depths of her tea mug, not even taking a drink. Steam no longer billowed from the top of the liquid, it was cold—just like everything else around her. Dempsa had stayed quiet, a fact Olive was grateful for, but since she had kept her gaze on her mug she had missed Dempsa's reaction.

There was silence as Olive finished her story. Though Dempsa had remained silent, Olive fully expected her to say something now. But she got no response. With a sigh, Olive tore her eyes from her mug and looked up.

Dempsa was completely still her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Shock was the first thing Olive noticed, followed by sympathy and a little bit of confusion.

"I-I read about that story in the papers," Dempsa said when Olive looked to her. "That was you?"

Olive shrugged.

"And he came back?"

Olive nodded.

"Well--." Dempsa breathed out, ending her sentence there.

"I told you, I would never do anything like this on purpose. I know I shouldn't have let him in my apartment to begin with but I was--."

"Curious," Dempsa finished.

Olive nodded. "Oh this is a nightmare," she said, leaning forward until her forehead hit the table.

"I'm so sorry, Olive," Dempsa whispered.

"Dempsa, please. You have to tell me where Alfredo is," Olive said. She sat back up. "I need to talk to him."

Dempsa sighed. "I'm afraid I don't know where he is; unless you've tried his apartment."

"I have. I call, I go there. He either won't answer me or he's not there at all."

"Then I'm afraid I'm of no use. I haven't even seen him here since he told me what he had seen. And that was the day after it happened."

Olive whimpered and bit her lower lip, feeling any and all forms of hope whoosh from her; as if she had been hit in the gut.

"Dempsa, if he comes by again, will you tell him for me. He may not be listening to me, but he'll listen to you."

Dempsa shook her head. "I'm not going to do that, Olive."

"But Dempsa!" Olive exclaimed, feeling her entire body constrict with anxiety. "I told you! I told you I didn't do this on purpose!"

"I know, hun, I know," Dempsa soothed, placing her hand atop Olive's and patting it. "But this is your and Alfredo's misunderstanding, not mine."

"But Dempsa--."

"I said no, Olive. I won't be some form of a Diner Owning Carry Pigeon," Dempsa explained. "He needs to hear what happened from you."

Olive sighed and lowered her head, knowing Dempsa was right. She found herself, once again, back at square one; a place she was beginning to come to know very well.

"Does Alfredo know of the Romance Rogue business?" Dempsa asked.

Olive nodded. "I told him about it awhile ago. But he doesn't know the man he saw in my apartment was Jonah."

Dempsa nodded. "If Alfredo does come around here soon, I will tell him that you are looking for him and that he needs to talk to you. But that's as far as any explaining I'm going to do. You're right about one thing, if there's one person in this world who can get through to Alfredo, it's me," Dempsa said with a crooked smile and a wink.

Olive nodded and allowed herself a small, miniscule smile. Perhaps there would be hope after all.

* * *

That night, Olive got home just in time. She had stopped by Alfredo's apartment one more time to try and find him. She had failed in doing so, like she had every time before. The minute she got home and stepped through her door the worst of the storm arrived and a blizzard began to take over the city.

She slowly removed her hat, gloves and coat throwing them all on her couch as she walked by, making way to her bedroom. Once there she kicked off her shoes and turned on the bed side table lamp. Gingerly she sat on her bed, opened the drawer on the table and dug through the contents until she pulled out a piece of paper, folded down the middle with a single crease.

She held the paper to her chest for a moment, taking in deep breaths before she pulled it away. With shaky hands she unfolded the paper and read:

_If I loved you._

_Then I would love you in anyway I could. And if we could not touch then I would draw strength from your beauty. And if I went blind then I would fill my soul with the sound of your voice and the contents of your thoughts--until, the last spark of my love for you lit the shabby darkness of my dying mind._

Olive bit back a sob as she finished reading the contents of the small paper. With shaky hands and a single tear rolling down her cheek Olive folded the paper back up and put it away; closing the drawer.

At the time Alfredo had spoken those words, Olive had been indifferent. Her thoughts only of the Pie Maker and the girl named Chuck. But later that night, as she had been trying to sleep, Olive found the words swirling in her mind. So he had written them down, intrigued and confused at the same time, and then hid the paper away in her bedside table drawer.

It wasn't until months later, when she and Alfredo had started their relationship that Olive realized how sincere and true Alfredo's words had been. How he seemed to live by some similar creed, in sincerity and affection.

Olive had all but forgotten she had written the words down and kept them. That is, until recently, when Alfredo had been on the road. It had been on a night when Alfredo had been unable to call and she found herself needing a connection to him in some way. She remembered the paper and pulled it out, rereading its contents until the early morning.

And now that apparent disaster had struck, Olive read the words every night; wondering if Alfredo still thought the same. If he was doing those things now, since distance was keeping them apart. She wondered if Alfredo would look at her again, the way he had that day he had spoken those words. Or if he would take it all back, never took look at her or feel that way for her in the same way, ever again.

Olive Snook's thoughts continued to roam as she found herself falling deeper and deeper into despair.

Outside, the blizzard raged on.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. The next chapter will, sadly, be the last. Let me know what you think!

Thanks to those who reviewed! I really appreciate it!

Mote to come soon!

Until next time!


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Suddenly Fredo

**Disclaimer: **I started this story not owning Pushing Daisies and I end that way.

**Let Me Fall-  
****-Chapter Seventeen: Suddenly Fredo**

_Valentine's Day_

The sun slowly rose, filling the sky with colors of orange and red. The day was early but Alfredo Aldarisio was awake. He stared out of his bedroom window as the rising sun began the day.

_If I loved you._

_Then I would love you in anyway I could. And if we could not touch then I would draw strength from your beauty. And if I went blind then I would fill my soul with the sound of your voice and the contents of your thoughts--until, the last spark of my love for you lit the shabby darkness of my dying mind._

Alfredo's own words repeated in his mind, like a broken record, as the sun ascended. At the time he had spoken those words he had said _If_. _If I loved you._ And yet, Alfredo Aldarisio knew that those words were so far from true, then and now. It was not "if". No, when it came to Olive Snook, Alfredo had never thought "if".

And that was Alfredo Aldarisio's problem.

For when it came to Olive Snook, Alfredo did, in fact, love her with all his being—and he had since the day she had mumbled about espresso machine's being broken and untouched.

Yes, that was Alfredo Aldarisio's problem.

He loved Olive Snook.

And that's what made this all the more hard.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Alfredo had walked into Olive Snook's apartment to see her kissing another man. Two weeks since he had seen her. Two weeks since he had spoken to her; which meant it had been one month and two weeks since he had talked to her in person.

And it made it all the harder.

Alfredo had thought things were going well between the two. So why had she been kissing another man? In her own apartment, nonetheless. It all made no sense. And yet, he had seen what he had seen. There was no denying that.

And that made it all the worse.

Yes, that was Alfredo's Aldarisio's problem.

Alfredo loved Olive Snook. And no matter what had happened, he would go on loving her.

Alfredo took a long drink of water, staring at the empty room that surrounded him.

He sighed.

* * *

To Olive Snook, the colors red, pink, and white usually signified love, romance, and passion. But on this particular day, the colors were nothing more than holiday vomit; strewn across the walls of The Pie Hole.

"Did you really have to decorate _today?_" Olive asked in disgust as she took in the Valentine's decorations Chuck had just finished hanging.

"It's just a little celebration," Chuck said jumping down from the ladder she had been standing on.

Olive wrinkled her nose while staring down the decorations, almost willing them to look back at her. "Whatever," she muttered darkly, turning to face the kitchen and avoid the decor. She scowled when she was met with the sight of a giant paper heart hanging in the indoor window way. "You didn't decorate last year."

Chuck shrugged. "Better late than never--," she replied, her voice trailing when realization dawned on her. "Sorry," she whispered.

Olive shrugged.

"I'll take them down if you want," Chuck said kindly.

Olive turned and smiled, shaking her head. "Other people should still celebrate, even if I can't," Olive replied sadly.

Valentine's Day.

It was the first Valentine's Day Olive had been looking forward too in a long time. For she had finally found someone she wished to spend it with, and who wished to spend it with her in return. But as fate, in the form of Jonah Burke, would have it she would be alone on this Valentine's Day. Fate in the form of Jonah Burke was a fate Olive wished would vanish from the face of the earth.

"Happy Valentine's Day my lovely cupids!"

Olive and Chuck turned to see Pim walk into The Pie Hole.

"What is that?" Olive asked, her face twisted in disgust, as she pointed at Pim's hat.

Pim shifted and touched her hat, her own face contorting in disgust, "Dilly's idea. As if candy boxes placed on top of a hat isn't awkward enough, she decided to add this ginormous heart," she explained. "I mean I love Valentine's Day, but I'm not a walking billboard."

"Ginormous isn't a word," Emerson said from his place at the counter, before taking a drink of coffee. "And don't call me a lovely cupid."

"Aw," Pim puckered her face. "Don't be a spoil sport. It's the day for loooooove," Pim replied, dancing around Emerson, holding a small box above her head.

"I am not a spoil sport," Emerson replied, wiggling his fingers at the words. "Besides, you should be saying that to that one," he finished pointing at Olive.

Olive scowled.

"Why?" Pim asked, tilting her head towards her cousin.

"She wanted the decorations down," Emerson said, sounding like a five year old, tattling on a classmate.

Olive huffed and threw a nearby rag at the private eye. "Don't you ever mind your own business?"

"He's a detective," The Pie Maker said, walking from the kitchen and joining the group. "He never minds his own business."

Emerson pointed to Ned in agreement.

Olive rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"See," Emerson said. "So don't go pointing any fingers at me."

"Oh come on," Pim replied, rolling her eyes in a similar fashion as Olive. "Valentine's Day isn't just about romance." At her cousin's words, Olive winced. Pim noticed and smiled sadly, mouthing a 'Sorry' before continuing on, "It's about friendship too! Which is why I brought y'all this."

Pim dropped the box she had been holding on the counter, opening it to reveal a large assortments of candies; most obviously from Balsam's Bittersweets Taffy and Sweets Emporium.

"Dilly let you have all of this?" Ned asked, peering into the box.

Pim shrugged a look of innocence on her face. "Sure, we'll go with that."

"You took them?" Chuck asked, popping a chocolate in her mouth.

"More like borrowed without consent."

"Borrowed? What, you're going to take them back after we eat them?" Olive asked, taking a Mint Sweet and eating it. Her mouth twisted as the taste hit her taste buds. On this particular Valentine's Day the taste of chocolate was anything but sweet.

"Okay, so I stole them," Pim said, rolling her eyes once more. "But really. Valentine's Day _and _a chance to undermine Dilly, it was too great of an opportunity to pass up."

"You don't like working for Dilly?" Ned asked, grabbing a taffy from the box.

Pim pulled a face. "Working for Dilly is like playing catch with a pineapple." Pim's analogy made Olive, Chuck, and The Pie Maker shudder. Emerson grunted.

"Well, go on, take some," Pim said, pushing the box of candy to Emerson, the only person of their group who had yet to take some candy.

"A-No," Emerson replied, opening up his ever present news paper.

"Oh yes, I figured you wouldn't want any of that," Pim said, digging into her uniform pocket. "So I got you these," she said, pulling out a pile of what appeared to be gold coins.

"Money?" Olive asked, spitting out her second candy into a napkin. She picked up another chocolate, put it in her mouth and gagged, spitting it out as well.

"Chocolate disguised as money," Pim said, knowingly.

"Useless money," Emerson said, pocketing the treats even as he did.

"But money nonetheless," Chuck said, making Emerson scowl.

Olive picked up another chocolate and put it in her mouth, immediately gagging and spitting it out once more. "Pim, these are disgusting. Are they old or something?"

Pim's brow quirked.

"They taste fine to me," The Pie Maker said.

"They were made fresh this morning," Pim said, grabbing a chocolate and eating it. She eyed her cousin. "Perfectly fine."

"They're scrumptious," Emerson said mockingly.

"You haven't even had one, yet," Chuck accused.

Olive sighed. She looked to her companions, all enjoying their sweets on this Valentine's Day. She looked around the room, drinking in the Valentine's decorations. She gagged. Out of the corner of her eye, Olive watched a couple walk by the window, huddled together and cuddly. She felt nauseous. Olive was vaguely aware that her companions were talking. Ned smiled as Chuck said something and Pim laughed. Olive felt the need to smile or laugh in return. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her head began to hurt, as the colors of red, pink, and white that surrounded her began to swirl.

"I feel sick," She suddenly said, "I have to go."

"Olive, are you alright?" Pim asked, eyeing her cousin carefully

Olive waved the question away with her hand. "I just need to go," she replied. "Sorry," she said to Ned, before she all but sprinted from The Pie Hole.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ned asked.

"She will be," Pim said.

"Eventually," Chuck added.

"She just needs some alone time," Pim finished.

Pim and Chuck watched Olive Snook disappear from sight before they turned to one another and shared a knowing look. They smiled sadly before grabbing another candy treat and popping them into their mouths.

* * *

Alfredo Aldarisio paced.

His hands where stuffed in his pockets and he muttered incoherently to himself.

Valentine's Day.

Alfredo had been busy planning this Valentine's Day since before he had gone away. He had been looking forward to spending the day of love with Olive. And yet he wasn't. Instead he was alone, pacing in an empty room, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

Two weeks ago.

He sighed and kicked the piece of cardboard that lay by his foot. He turned and continued to pace.

And that made it all the harder.

He was alone on Valentine's Day, when the woman he loved was doing who knew what with a man he never met.

Alfredo huffed and clenched his fist, hearing the paper he held crinkle. He ripped his hand from his pocket and straightened the crumbled paper.

_Fredo._

_Please. I have to talk to you. Just please. Answer me. I need to talk to you. I have to explain. Please. Please._

_Yours,_

_Olive._

Alfredo sighed and balled up the note Olive had left at his apartment once more, sticking his hands in his pockets. Sure she needed to talk to him. To explain how she had to break it off with him so she could be with that other man. _Other man_.

And that made it all the harder.

The woman he loved, Olive Snook, did not want to be with him. Sure, she hadn't said it…yet. But he could see it coming, why else would she have been kissing _him_? It was simple, he knew. She didn't want to be with Alfredo anymore. She wanted someone who would be around more. Who would stay in one place.

Alfredo sighed and looked around the empty room. He had come so close.

And yet it made no sense. If she hadn't wanted to be with him anymore, why had she wasted almost a year with him in the first place? That had to mean that she still had feelings for him, any form of feelings—in any way shape or form. She had to…After all, he loved her. With all his being. And he would go on loving her, whether she liked it or not.

Alfredo Aldarisio stopped pacing, feeling something click within him.

An equation quickly played in his mind:

He loved Olive. Olive wanted to be with someone else. But Olive had spent almost a year involved with him. So Olive still had to feel something for him. Which meant…

Hope flared in Alfredo Aldarisio's heart.

Quickly, Alfredo turned on his heel and ran from the room, turning quickly and locking the door. With a nod, he set off.

Alfredo Aldarisio was a man on a mission.

Alfredo Aldarisio would go on loving Olive Snook, like he had since she had first grumbled about broken espresso machines…and he would be damned if anyone was going to try and stop him.

* * *

Olive Snook was trying to read.

She sighed, turning the page of her magazine. After Olive had quickly left The Pie Hole that morning she retreated to the warmth of her apartment, where she had been able to avoid all things Valentines. That was, until she decided to pass her time by reading. Olive cursed herself for being a romantic, in love with love and anything that had to do with it. All of the books she owned were of the romantic nature in some way shape or form.

Which was why Olive Snook was currently sitting on her couch, reading through a pile of fine food magazines. While Olive loved food, reading about it in ten magazines, with twenty more to go, did get old.

She sighed.

Yes, this was exactly how she had anticipated her Valentine's Day would be. Sitting on her couch, reading old fine dining magazines. Olive scowled at the magazine in her lap before throwing it across the room. She picked up a new one.

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since that fateful day. And Olive had yet to hear anything from Alfredo. No phone call, no answering of the door, no surprise visits to her apartment. Nothing. She had gone into work everyday at The Pie Hole hoping that Alfredo would perhaps show up. But he hadn't.

Two weeks and Olive Snook was beginning to lose hope. She would never see Alfredo Aldarisio again. A dry sob escaped her throat.

A knock sounded on the door.

Olive looked to the door. "It's open!" she called, wiping at the tears that had yet to fall, not feeling like she wanted to get up. It was probably Chuck or Pim, anyways.

Without preamble, the door burst open and Olive Snook gasped.

Marching towards her was not Chuck and it was most definitely not Pim.

"Fredo?" Olive whispered, jumping from her sitting position. The magazines spilled to the floor.

Alfredo paused on the other side of the coffee table and held out his hand when Olive made to go to him.

"Olive, I want to talk to you," he said, sounding unsure though the look on his face was nothing less than confident.

"I want to talk to you too, Fredo," Olive said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Alfredo shook his head. "I think you should sit down."

Olive quirked her head but sat.

Alfredo paced.

"Olive," he said, walking back and forth along the length of the coffee table. "You may not want to hear this." Olive felt her stomach tighten. "But I love you."

Olive felt the air leave her lungs in a quiet gasp. She opened her mouth to reply, but Alfredo held up his hand. He continued to pacing.

"And you may not love me back. And you may not want to be involved with me anymore. And you may want to be with that other man I saw you with." Olive felt the blood drain from her face. "But if you think for one minute that I'm going to give you up without a fight then I'm a damn fool," Alfredo finished, stopping his pacing and ending in front of Olive.

Olive slowly stood.

"Er—then _you're _a damn fool," Alfredo amended.

Olive stepped forward.

"No—then _we're _damn fools."

Olive stepped onto her coffee table. "Are you quite finished?" She asked, looking down, the table giving her a slight height advantage.

Alfredo straightened his shoulders. "Yes."

Olive huffed before grabbing Alfredo and pulling him close, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Alfredo automatically wrapped his arms around Olive's waist, pulling her closer.

"Good," she whispered when they parted. "I'm so sorry," she whimpered.

"Olive?" Alfredo asked, confused, more than sure that he had figured out what had happened.

"I didn't mean for it to happen. I promise. I swear. Fredo, you have to believe me. Jonah just showed up and the next think I knew we were arguing and then all of the sudden he kissed me and—and--." Olive's words came out fast, her breathing bordering hyperventilation. Her eyes were wide as tried to explain to Alfredo what he had seen.

"Who? Jonah?" Alfredo asked, the name sounding familiar.

Olive nodded vigorously. "Yes! Yes Jonah. Alfredo, that man was Jonah. Jonah Burke. The guy who—who--."

"Scammed you." Alfredo said, looking at Olive, shocked.

Olive continued to nod, her head close to coming unhinged. "I swear, Alfredo. I didn't mean for it to happen. I never wanted to see him again and he just showed up, rambling on about him wanting me to forgive him. And then the next thing I knew--."

"So you and him—he's not hiding in your closet or anything, is he?"

Olive felt her breath leave her as she felt a weight lift from her body. Her head fell forward as she shook it. "No, you fool," she said, pulling back to look Alfredo in the eye. "I love you."

The words fell from Olive's lips before she even realized she had spoken them. She gasped silently; surprised she had even said them. And yet, as she watched Alfredo's eyes widen in surprise and delight, and as a slow smile formed on his lips, Olive knew she had never before spoken truer words.

"I love you too," Alfredo whispered, smiling.

Olive whimpered and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as his own encircled her arms. "Oh Fredo, I'm so sorry," she whispered, burying her face in his neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you sooner," Alfredo quietly said into her ear.

Olive shook her head. "It's my fault," she replied. "But, Fredo," Olive pulled back, keeping her arms around the man before her, but looking him in the eye. "Where were you? I searched everywhere."

Alfredo smiled sheepishly.

"I was so worried."

"I'm sorry I worried you."

"Where were you?" Olive asked again.

Alfredo's smile turned into a slight smirk. "Someplace you don't know about," He explained. Olive quirked her brow. "It's not finished yet. It was going to be a surprise but--do you want to see it?"

Olive nodded. "Yes! But where is it?"

"_Surprise_," Alfredo reiterated. "Now, go get your jacket," Alfredo said, holding out his hand to help Olive down.

Olive all but skipped to her bedroom. In the doorway she turned, tapping the doorframe. "Do you want to check my closet first?"

"For what?" Alfredo asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Other men?" Olive asked.

Alfredo blushed and coughed awkwardly.

Olive smiled brightly. She had her Fredo back.

* * *

Olive Snook sighed as Alfredo Aldarisio held her hand, warming it against the February weather.

She allowed him to pull her along Boutique Boutique Way, wondering where he was leading her. To the place he had been hiding for two weeks; that much she knew. But what confused Olive was the fact that she had scoped Boutique Boutique Way too many times to count and she hadn't been able to find him. So where was he leading her?

Olive shrugged. She would find out soon enough. And she did.

Alfredo stopped at the end of the alley, just short of Dempsa's Dining Diner. From where they stood, Olive could see Dempsa through the window. The older woman paused when she saw Olive and Alfredo standing together; a look of pleased shock written across her features.

Olive looked around. "You were at Dempsa's? But--."

"Not Dempsa's," Alfredo replied, turning towards the last shop on their right. The shop was empty, no sign sitting above the door, and a SOLD sign in the window. Alfredo dug into his pocket and pulled out a key.

"Fredo?" Olive asked.

Alfredo said nothing, he merely unlocked the door and stepped aside, holding the door open for Olive.

"I don't understand," Olive said, walking through door. The room they entered into was large and empty. A counter stood directly at the back and plastic wrapped shelving units and chairs lined the walls. "_This_ is where you've been?"

Alfredo nodded with a sheepish smile on his face. "Like it?" He asked, walking in a closing the door.

"Like it—I—Fredo, what is it?"

"You're standing in what will become Alfredo's Herbothocary."

"Alfredo's Herbothocary?"

"I'm still working on the name," Alfredo replied, looking nervous.

Olive felt her jaw drop. "Alfredo, are you—are you opening your own business?"

Alfredo nodded.

Olive took a step forward, placing her hand on his arm. She looked into his eyes. "A traveling salesman isn't such a thing if he does not travel," she whispered.

Alfredo smiled, hearing his own words echoed at him. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "It appears," He said quietly, looking into Olive's eyes with a shy look on his face. "That I've finally found my reason to stay."

The fantasy started as it had before…and yet, for the first time, it was nothing short of reality…

A smile formed on Olive's lips as she stepped towards him. "Fredo," she whispered, allowing him to pick her up. Their lips met before she could utter her next words. _I knew it was you_, whispered in her mind. As they kissed Olive's eyes slipped shut and Alfredo lifted her from the ground, spinning slightly.

Olive felt like she was flying, swirling in an emotion beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Olive wanted to go on flying, soaring until the ends of time.

Slowly, Olive came back to earth as Alfredo lowered her to the ground and broke their kiss.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Olive," he whispered into her ear. "I love you."

Olive hummed in response, digging her face into Alfredo's neck.

And it was there, in that exact moment, on that very day standing in the middle of what would become Alfredo's Herbothocary, wrapped in the arms of Alfredo Aldarisio that Olive Snook decided she had, perhaps, finally found a cure to Unrequited Love Syndrome.

_Fin_

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**Well there you have it! All finished. I hope y'all enjoyed the conclusion! I REALLY enjoyed writing this story.

Keep an eye out for a Pushing Daisies one shot or two. I've got a couple ideas, one of which will be a small snap shot of life after the end of this particular story.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

I had so much fun writing this and I hope you all had the same amount of fun reading

Until next time!

Kate


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